


First Conact

by 1JakoftheMoon1



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aliens, hostages, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JakoftheMoon1/pseuds/1JakoftheMoon1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Alternian Empire is used to dealing with aliens in its galactic campaign of conquest. At the height of its power and majesty, aided by the blessed eleven, this imperial engine encounters a lone spacecraft of unusual construction and disturbing occupants. For the first time in generations the trolls will meet their match. They simply haven't realized it yet.</p><p>Not that any of this helps the humans onboard. They're still pretty screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Glorious Occasion

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to this rendition of all the Homestuck characters you know and love being hopelessly butchered by my writing before being flung out of the airlock into space. 
> 
> That is a lie, I can't write for dismembered characters. It's like a disease. Or really picky writers block. I'm just going to electrocute them a few times instead.
> 
> But seriously, this is but the prologue for what shall be a vast interstellar conflict between troll, man and wo-man (man and woman will be on the same side btw). Sci-fi? Included. Supernatural? Sold separately, but coming soon! 
> 
> Anyways, what better way to start off this war of the stars (ah HA haaaa I kill me) than a discovery, a bit of mental trauma, strange genetic gifts, an escape attempt, an of course, first contact.

                   

                   Your name is Terezi Pyrope, legislacerator of the Alternian Empire, teal caste. You are also one of the eleven blessed, trolls gifted with strange abilities unheard of even for a species prone to psychic abilities. Although physically blind, you experience visions of the consequences resulting from particularly weighted actions; the “greater” the immediate results, the stronger the vision. Because of your abilities, you have been pulling double time as a military advisor and aspiring legislacerator, sniffing out crimes on the battle front. Personally, you could not be more satisfied with your life at the moment. Becoming a legislacerator was your dream since you first viewing of a courtblock drama, and while the job isn’t always glamorous nothing beats watching the guilty swing. Getting to fight alien species for the glory of the Condesce is just a nice way to relieve stress between cases. Sadly, your romantic life hasn’t been all that steady, but that’s kind of standard for a troll. You’re one perigree away from your 10th sweep now, and life is pretty great.

 

                   It was just another day on the _Paininator_ , your modestly sized advance guard starcraft. Standard procedure for any scouting ship was to pop into an unexplored expanse of space, locate the nearest solar system and catalogue any landmarks for future reference. The discovery of intelligent live warranted an immediate investigation before popping back to the main fleet. The new life forms would then be ruthlessly crushed and enslaved under the Alternian boot heel; their world colonized and gradually stripped of all resources. You were hanging around the bridge, mostly out of boredom when an anomaly was detected. It was quickly classified as a small alien vessel, and the _Paninator_ swooped in for the kill. You grinned when you heard the good news. You, and every other troll stopped grinning once you boarded the enemy vessel and rounded up the crew.

 

                  First of all, encountering aliens capable of space travel was a rare event. Usually the civilizations your people conquered were still bound by their home’s gravitational pull, with varying levels of advancement. The term advancement used rather broadly here, as on one occasion a species stuck at the nano-scale of evolutionary development still had the sociological consciousness to unite and break down their invader’s molecules one by one. So, a space faring species promised a good fight, and glory for the discoverers. This was good.

 

                 Secondly, the entire ship was metal. All of it. Troll civilization mastered artificial evolution long ago, and incorporated some level of biology into every form of technology. Oh, you were no strangers to machines – just ask Equius -, but at some point circuitry connected to squishy grubs, or beehive mainframes. Even aliens capable of spaceflight usually had semi-organic ships. Heck, the last bunch were the ships. This craft currently carrying your person was all wires.

 

                Thirdly, this species looked way, way too troll for your tastes. It was if evolution took some brownbloods, dyed their skins a bunch of different colors, changed some features, sawed off the horns, pumped them full of delicious cherry juice and called it an original species. There had to be some differences that the eye, or nose, couldn’t see, but until the alien dead were examined and dissected they looked uncomfortably like maimed alternians.

 

               This last fact was processed while examining the alien crew, kneeling in a line with their hands behind their heads. The _Paininator_ had latched onto the ship with a fleshcoil. Two squads traveled inside the coil as its mouth burned through the hull with acid, easily subduing the little resistance they encountered. Orders were to capture, not kill. Not that meant anything to the trigger-happy squad leader that reported decapitating the captain. You were going to enjoy chewing her out for this later. Platonically.

 

               Eridan, or Captain Ampora as he kept calling himself, sent you over to see if a vision would be triggered. You felt nothing concrete as you swept your sniffer around the captives, but amongst the smell of their dread and sobbing there was a vague unease crawling around the back of your mind. You made one more circuit around the prisoners, each shivering as they got a good sniff, before drawing back to talk with the other squad captain. You feel your mouth twist into a frown. That premonition meant trouble far ahead.

 

              “Karkat, are you sure they’ve given up?” Even with his helmet on, you can feel the burning glare.

 

             “They’re fucking bawling their ocular globes out with creepy clear tears genius. They’re either ready to bend over for their new overlords, or trying to grow killer plants on our boots. Fucking assassin weeds, powered by the despair of discolored freaks of nature, ready to deck the halls and wipe the floors with our asses.” he snarled.

 

             You grin. After enough sweeps, most of Karkat’s inane blathering has faded into this rambling grumble. You did, and still kinda do, find it irritatingly adorable. “That’s a yes then!” He does this weird little jerk of the shoulder region that’s supposed to be a shrug. It looks more like the start of a seizure. One of the captives twitches reflexively from the sight, eyeing the sickle strapped to your friend’s side.

Smelling the background event brings you back to the situation. “So what is this, some kind of side room for their captors to throw them into?”

 

            He rolls his eyes. You can’t smell it directly, but you know he did. “Fuck if I know. It was big and empty and really fucking generic, so miss crazy spider pants had me march them in here while she decides to see if the captain’s chair can spin eighty eight times in a row or some shit.”

 

            You nod in agreement to his not-quite-sarcasm. “Casualties?”

 

            “None, for us. It was really fucking easy. The only ones that fought back were the leader and some crazy asshole with sunglasses. Vriska hacked off the first guy;s head, and someone tranqued the other before she broke his face.” He gestures towards the aliens as he speaks. “Suckers stayed pretty fucking docile after that. We searched them all, and most weren’t even armed to begin with. Either this isn’t a military vessel or we’ve stumbled onto a species of pacifists.”

 

            You throw your head back and groan in distaste at the joke. That would be so damned boring, you could just puke sour apple disappointment. “You located the command center?” Better dress down the cerulean blood while she’s in a good mood from getting some action.

 

            “Uh, yeah. I think.”

 

            You raise an eyebrow. “You think?” He shuffles uncomfortably.

 

            “It. Had a big chair in it? Yeah.”

 

            You throw your head back and cackle. “Yes! The chair! The universal sign of command and authority!” You pretend to swoon. Karkat moves to catch you, getting a cane to the stomach for his effort. You force him back up, wheezing in protest. His squad mates carefully avert their visors. “Oh don’t be such a grub, your uniform is padded.” Grinning, you choke him with an armlock and strike a pose. “Now, Karkat, take me to the great big cushioning device that our mutual hatefriend has become so enamoured with! We must save her from its clutches!”

 

            “Hate… you… so much… for all time…” He breathes as he struggles under your arm. Whatever his blood color, its certainly not one on the more physical side of the spectrum. You let him go and poke him with you cane until he starts moving. One of the alien doors slides open silently, opening into a metal corridor. Each step echoes slightly as Karkat guides you through the ship.

 

            “Whatever this ship is for, its small, and filled with a fuckton of lab equipment.” Karkat starts narrating, probably so he doesn’t have to spend as much time getting briefed on this later. “And it doesn’t have any kind of shielding, or else the fleshcoil would have taken fucking ages to connect, so they probably don’t have strong psionics.”

 

            “Or any at all.” Karkat gives you another look, but you keep facing forward. The metal ring to your steps are constant reminders that these aliens have technology that remains a complete mystery. At least they probably know about as much about organic tech as you know about nonorganic tech. You also doubt that a psionic would have been easily restrained without getting tranquilized. Your lip curls in question. Maybe that sunglass alien…? Nah.

 

            After a moment of silence. Karkat continues. “Anyways, so far they seem to prefer ranged kinetic weaponry. Every armed alien had this small shitty box thing that shot metal pellets.” Karkat snorted and shook his head. Most trolls found personal ranged combat distasteful unless it either involved lasers or big explosions. Your Captain was excused for having an ancestral gun that did both in one package. This train of thought halts when Karkat grunts, “We’re here.”

 

           A slightly larger door slides open automatically. It's immediately apparent why Karkat asserted it as the control station. The door opens out onto a deck with stairs on either side leading down to a second floor. Below several work stations sit in a semicircle against the wall, chairs empty and consoles at the ready. A few trolls with Vriska’s insignia on their uniform mill about below. And in a rather spacious chair sits the spider lady herself, overlooking her minions from the deck. You clear your throat once. Twice. Before you can unsheathe your cane sword and start lopping off limbs the chair swivels around. Open arms and a mouth full of fangs greet you.

 

         “Heeeeeeeey, the blind prophet has come down from on high to great us mere mortals! Had any hallucinations yet? Or is it, smellinations?” Vriska laughs at her own joke. A tight smile is all you offer. Smells equal parts metallic and blueberry come off her.

 

         “I’m just here to do my humble duty as an investigator of past deeds. I only wanted to drop by before you and yours fouled up the place so badly I could mistake it for a lusus nest.” You keep the joking tone but add a layer of sickly sweetness to it.

 

         “Yeah, yeah, you sniff around all you like. Make sure to get that stain over there, maybe the captain’s ugly red swill will get your thinkpan moving for once.” Karkat’s smell wavers, and he twitches slightly by your side.

           

          A snarl escapes you. “I wouldn’t have to gamble on my gift if you actually thought about why you were told to leave them all alive!”

 

          Vriska waves her left arm exasperatedly, spreading the smell of metal prosthetic. “I knoooooooow that, but look on the bright side! Those wimps wet their pants and decided, “Oh fuck, she’s a badass, better surrender”! Except for that crazy fucker who tried to jump me in the hallway.” She cackles. “Oh man, that was hilaaaaaaaarious! Missed me by a mile, and chipped poor Karkles over there. You don’t pull those kinds of stunts on the luckiest troll to ever hatch!”

 

         “Oh whoa befall us miserable pieces of hoofbeast turd if you ever left us alone.” Karkat snarled defensively. Vriska’s good eye narrows and you decide to make peace now, chew her out later.

 

         “I came to ask about that one, actually. What happened to the human that attacked you?” Vriska diverts her attention back to you. The trolls below visibly relax.

 

         “Him? I was going to kill him, but Karkat got all huffy about that. So I decided to be merciful and volunteer him for translation.”

 

         You give a harsh laugh. “That wasn’t exactly being merciful!”

 

        Vriska smirks. “Well, he seemed eager for some alien contact. I just pointed him towards the best experience he could hope for.”

 

+++++

       Elsewhere, an unconscious human shudders at the irony of a statement involving his existence.

+++++

 

            Okay, so that thought is kind of funny. Point to the spider bitch. Still, you wanted some quiet time. Without Vriska lurking around. You plant your dragon cane before you and draw yourself up with the air of authority. “Squad commander Serket, you have done… mostly well. With the subjugation of the alien crew complete, I relieve you of your duties for the moment. Return to the _Paninator_ to be briefed by Captain Ampora on the attack.” Vriska pauses for a second, considering objecting before deciding its not worth it.

 

            “Whatever. Have fun with your little space box.” She barks an order at her troops, and they file out. Vriska bumps Karkat aside as she passes. He almost starts ranting, but you give him a small elbow jab and he contents himself with mumbling death threats.

 

            When they’re all gone, you stride over to the big chair and ease yourself into it. After examining the nagging unease in the back of your head for the umpteenth time, you decide to stop being a sourpuss and spin yourself around a couple of times, cackling like a madwoman. Karkat looks at you askance, and you explain, “It’s a war, Karkat! Finally, something interesting! Heeheeheeheehee!”

 

            “Oh, yeah.” He mentions. Something about him deflates a little. “Bring it on.”

+++++

            You are vice captain John Egbert and you are so fucking screwed.


	2. What Went Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aliens have taken over the ship, but what of vice captain John Egbert? Its not like you cared about those other humans, they're not main characters or anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay. Writing this was really fun. Finishing and then formatting it? Hellish. Anyways, enjoy this next, eagerly awaited installment!

            “Vice captain?” Something deep inside you squeals happily. The rest just feels kind of numb. Jade nodded cheerily from across the kitchen table.

 

            “Yup! We need someone familiar with Bec onboard for a second opinion. We don’t know for sure if the engine’s going to work or not. That’s why this experiment is sooooooooo important!” She leaned back, arms spread wide to emphasize the point. “’Vice captain’ just means that there’s a back-up authority that’s familiar with the drive. All you have to do is offer advice.”

 

            “Okay, but the best person to go would be you, right? No one knows it like you do.” The SPS drive was only the latest and greatest invention of Jade Harley, the face of the space age. Your cousin had quickly risen to the foreground of scientific advancement after graduating from college, starting with her adjustments to Sean Collary’s artificial gravity generator. Before Jade Harley, there were space expeditions. After Jade Harley, there were space vacations.

 

            Now, Jade Harley sits in front of you in your father’s kitchen, taking a break from guzzling down cake to plant her face on her fists. Uh oh, here comes the bad news.

 

            “Yeah, you’d think that! And I was so looking forward to seeing it at work after hours of theoretical calculations.” She puffed out her cheeks in frustration. “But the board wants me to observe from the backseat this time. They’re scared the ship’s gonna blow up or something.”

 

            “Uh…”

 

             “Have a little faith John! This thing’s just as much my baby as it is yours, you have to believe in it!” She leans in and pokes you in the chest with a grin. “Do you believe in our baby, John?” You laugh.

 

            “Aw, of course, Jade! Bec will be the best space engine, and I promise we’ll get you some souvenirs from Tatooine before coming back!”

 

+++++

 

            “So much for souvenirs.” You chew your lip awkwardly. Humanity’s farthest space jump test had been successful. The Bec’s performance matched your calculations almost exactly, in fact exceeding them by a single lightyear. A light year far enough to encounter alien life, apparently.

 

            Only your paranoia saved you from capture. Having gone to observe the engine during transit, you were absent when the invaders boarded the Colombus. Your first hint that something was afoot was the disabled transportalizer. The second was a jarring impact rocking the ship. A text from Dave telling you to “ **stay put** ” set off warning sirens in your head. You messaged him back.

 

**dave what the hell is going on? why am i locked in? is this supposed to be ironic? youre trying to be ironic aren’t you. dave let me out.**

            He answers immediately. **i cant do that john. theres a party going on and bucktoothed dorks aren’t invited.**

 

            You roll your eyes. **haha youre so funny i almost peed myself**

 

**cool story brah now sit your ass down and stay low. weve been boarded**

 

            Pssh. Really Dave? This is the best you came up with? You shake your head in mock disappointment **. dave as the pranking master, i can take a good joke. you got me, hee hee hoo hoo now let me out before i punch you. through the internet.**

**egbert im fucking serious**

**i thought he was with lindsy?**

**john. i completely and totally temporarily revoke my ironic majesty to inform you: its about to be aliens all up in here. we locked you in there because jades magic circle is the only way in or out and we need someone to get out of this alive**

 

            Your skepticism slips a little. **what am i supposed to do?**

**isnt  there a reason the engine room is so isolated come on man you make one half of the incestuous pairing that birthed this thing**

 

            Huh. Well, Bec’s room can only be entered your private transportalizer to restrict access, and so that in case of emergencies…

 

**oh my god**

**yep**

**we designed bec to function completely separately from the rest of the ship’s systems. the engine room is basically its own vehicle. you want me to make a jump by myself and leave you all here to get captured.**

**don’t forget molestation ive seen the hentais**

**are you sure they’re not here to negotiate or something?**

**dunno but getting you and that engine out of here are the two big priorities right now. negotiate isnt code for “please take all of our technological secrets and use them against us”. if you dont want to jump the gun hack into surveillance and see how this shit goes down**

**dave i don't need to hack into my own ship, i have clearance for security. hacking is for silly but awesome hollywood flicks.**

**start clearancing then**

 

            You still didn’t know what was going on. But watching helplessly was still better than pacing around a compartment the size of a college dorm room. You unlogged your laptop from its sylladex card and connected to the ships’s wireless. A hurried password input gave you access to the security. A bunch of screens popped up, displaying footage from throughout the Colombus. You clicked on one from the main deck to enlarge it

 

            Most of the crew was there, clearly panicked about something. Captain Lai was shouting, but the camera didn’t transmit sound so he yelled silently. Next to him stood Dave in a red Intelligence uniform. He looked straight at the camera and waved.

**sup gorgeous**

**hahahaha fuck off.**

**check the mess hall**

 

            Frowning, you switched screens. The mess hall had been deactivated, the tables and benches resting underneath the floor. At first nothing seemed amiss, until you noticed that a large circular patch of the ceiling was steadily bulging outward. You watched as the shape grew, a strange orange liquid leaking from cracks and hissing on contact with the floor. Suddenly the fluid and bulging halt, and you held your breath. Then a boot kicked through the hull, knocking away everything that hadn’t melted. Black suited figures dropped down through the hole. You sucked in your breath. One look at their gear identified them a military personnel.

**yeah okay. so they’re not here to hold peace talks over tea and crumpets.**

**fuck no they want our brains, resources and women**

**they’ll take you alive then.**

**as if they could resist partaking in this finely sculpted specimen**

 

             You’re in the middle of typing a retort while watching the aliens examine the hall when something horrifying strikes you. **dave! the prelogged coordinates! the bec schematics!**

 

            Camera Dave smacked his head in a manner that could not be anything but sarcastic. **no shit science guy what do you think caps been yelling about? unsatisfactory dust levels? were pulling everything of the grid and sending it to computer data hell.**

            You type frantically, **no you idiot i mean all my documents about the sps and calculations about the jump from alpha. even if I get away they’ll still get everything they need to know about where we come from and how we got here!** Dave straightens, and then leans over to whisper to the captain. One short conversation later and he sprints out of the bridge, drawing his pistol out from its holster.

 

**whats your passcode? its con air isn’t it**

 

            You smirk. **nope**

**fuck really? nic cage?**

**nuh uh!**

**little monsters**

**goddammit.**

**ahaha you and your shit movies. wait sps?**

**Spacial Positioning Shifter. it’s the official name for the bec engine. the acronym is shit though so we don’t use it.**

**yeah i can see that**

            You shrink that screen so you can view all the feeds at once. You look back to the mess hall, where the aliens were now fiddling with the door. They appeared humanoid, but covered in too much combat gear to identify any other characteristics other than the horns poking out from the helmets. Flamboyant, varied horns colored like candy corn of all things. It made you want to laugh. It was like they came from the set of a terrible B movie. “Attack of the Candy People”, maybe. Hey, that actually has a nice ring to it.

 

            The invaders drew back in surprise when the door slides open automatically. One with nubby horns practically tripped over its fellows, making you snort. Carefully, they passed through the doorway with all the caution of sneaking past a sleeping bear, nubs and one other alien with mismatched horns in the lead. Wimpy, candy aliens? They didn’t even have ranged weaponry, just a collection of swords and sickles right out of the medieval era.

 

            Back on the main bridge, Lai and five other crewmen draw their emergency pistols and take defensive positions around the door. You bit your cheek anxiously. Melee or not, these aliens were clearly prepared for combat, and pretty much no one on your side had gotten anything but basic training. The only ones with real combat ability were captain Lai and Dave, and Dave was mostly self trained from what you can tell. Something about his brother and sick ninja bullshit. The _Colombus_ was an experimental vessel, not outfitted for combat. You counted. 24 aliens. 30 humans, only 15 of which were armed. Your hand drifts to the holster on your side. 15 armed, one stuck with the engine, the others bound to be cut off as the boarders move through the corridors. Not good.

 

**the aliens are on the move. be careful.**

**could you be any more vauge**

**:B it looks like they’re splitting into three teams, one of twelve and two of six. team one’s going down the main corridor towards the bridge and the others are circling around to sweep the branching corridors.**

**awesome. killed anyone yet?**

**no not yet. why would you even ask like that? wait, hang on.**

            A technician had just come out of a lab, walking straight into alien team number 2. The nubby one dashes forward and restrains the poor guy while another alien starts patting him down, finding a gun. He (She? It?) examines the pistol before taking an experimental shot at the ground, embedding a bullet in the metal floor. You’re disappointed when they don’t jump at the bang, and really glad the idiot didn’t hit anything important. They nubby one seems to agree, because it leans over to smack his teammate upside the head for its curiosity. So, they seem at least familiar with guns. Another alien crouches down to retrieve the bullet, examining it before shaking its head and taking out a clear bubble thing. It prods a seam, and the bubble opens long enough to deposit the bullet. The squad moves on, nubs holding the techy at arms length with a sickle against his neck.

 

**they met someone, but took him prisoner instead of eviscerating him.**

**hostile but purposeful? better than a bunch of crazies i guess**

**also? they might be using organic tech.** It was just a hunch, but that bubble had a distinctly un-mechanical feeling to it. Unless it was some kind of synthesized nano membrane or whatever.

**oh fuck its like all your wet dreams came true at once egbert**

 

            You flush. Aside from assisting Jade with calculations, your main field of expertise was biology. You two had an agreement where you’ll take turns playing Igor to the other’s Frankenstein. That was why you were deemed qualified for this job in the first place; smart, informed and scientific, but not of a level or discipline vital to your superiors. The confirmation that biological technology was possible was something you’d shove in everyone’s faces triumphantly later.

 

**shut your face. i see you snooping around my room, did you delete everything?**

 

            Dave spins your chair around to look at the camera, looks back at your desk and computer, then stands up.

 

**almost**

**wait. hang on.**

 

            Too late, as Dave raises his pistol and unloads it into the desktop, reducing it to bits of circuitry and plastic.

**oh my god.**

**there doc strider made everything all better sonny go tell your mommy hes banging material**

 

            You could almost pull out your hair at this travesty. Oh wait, you are pulling your hair out! **you colossal. fucking. flipdoodly idiot!**

**hang tight sweetie be right with you**

            He stepped onto the transportalizer in the corner. Dave stood there dumbly for a few seconds before texting, **egbert why it no teleport?**

 

            If you weren’t concerned about damaging the engine, you’d start head banging against the walls. **dave, my transportalizer was remotely locked from the bridge, so it has to be unlocked from MY DESKTOP before it can be used again!** Dave read the text and broke his ironic cool guy façade long enough to give an elongated grimace. It was like his mouth had enough of its owner and was fleeing south. Any other time you’d bust a gut, but then again, aliens.

 

**fuck**

**you just had to show off for little timmy didn’t you.**

**double fuck**

**hope his mom’s hot enough to be worth it.**

**triple fuck**

**there’s always the aliens you know. remember the hentais dave?**

**quadruple fuck**

**The hentais?**

**john what comes after quadruple I don’t even know how fucked I am shitshitshitshit**

 

            Watching Dave panic was not doing wonders for your morale. **okay calm down. i’ll give you instructions on how to get back to the bridge.** You shrink the screen, only to freeze. The 12 man team, lead by the alien with asymmetrical horns, had reached the door of the bridge. **actually you know what? stay put for a second.**

**fuck that i’m not getting molestated without a fight**

            “No Dave wait!” Too bad he can’t hear you through the screen. He ran out of your room just in time to run into team number three. One alien raises his hand to point at him, and you hope Dave has good aim. Quick as a flash he whips something out of his coat and throws it down. You cover your eyes as bright light envelopes the tiny screen, and by the time it dies down Dave’s fled the personal quarters and is ducking and weaving between labs and corridors, putting distance between himself and the squad.

 

**take off the sunglasses they said. they’re useless they said. fuck you, i said.**

            You breath out. “Crazy asshole.” You say, although you’re smiling in relief. You switch back to the bridge just in time to see the alien with asymmetrical horns signal to its squad. They take positions to either side of the door while their leader stands directly in front of it, hands on its hips. “Wow, um, what?” you laugh. At this point you couldn’t tell if this race was sophisticated or moronic. Was it tradition for they’re leaders to stand brazenly in the open and dare someone to kill them?

 

            It got better. The alien reached out with one hand and knocked. Once. Twice. Five times total. “Shave and a hair cut.” You muttered, wondering what kind of brain trauma that alien must have.

 

            Inside the bridge everything was still. Captain Lai had taken cover behind the command chair, which was backed with metal and made of bulletproof material. The 4 other armed crewman at the bridge were positioned on the stairs, trying to make the best of what covered they offered. Everyone else had gathered on the second deck for safety. Quickly, you checked the security feed. Dave was on the run, and it looks like nub’s team had rounded up the rest of the crew using surprise and hostages for cover. It was a disgustingly efficient tactic.

 

            Back on the bridge, Lai gave a signal. One of the crewman below inched over to a console and pressed something. The bridge doors opened with a whoosh. “Shoot, shoot, shoot them now.” You chanted.

 

            The squad leader waved jauntily. Captain Lai, remaining behind cover, waved back, then began trying to speak. At first you thought he was nuts, but you realized he wasn’t trying to communicate, but to establish himself as a fellow sentient. The squad leader cocked its head to the side, appearing to listen. Suddenly it began slowly raising its arm. Lai paused and every human who saw the motion tensed. The alien held its arm perpendicular to its body, turning its fist face up. A single finger was unraveled to point upward. It took you three stunned seconds to realize it was giving captain Lai the bird. _Heh, okay, point to the dickish alien._ For a second you wondered if it meant something like “peace be with you” in alienese, but from its attitude and how it had presented it there was no way the alien was saying anything other than “Fuck you fleshbag.”

 

            From the way Lai barked an order and shot at it, you suppose he agreed. Of course, everything went to hell after that so it’s not like you can ask him.

 

            The moment Lai opened his mouth the alien began to move. Turns out it was holding something after all. In a blur of motion it flung its upstretched arm upwards, realizing several tiny, bluish objects that you thought for a heartbeat were dice. The things glowed for half second, and suddenly there was a sword in the alien’s hand. It lunged forward, flowing around Lai’s bullet and closing the distance in a second. You blinked, mouth agape. That wasn’t an exaggeration, the thing moved in a literal blur. You’d seen two people trained to move like that in real life, and now all you could think was well of course they don’t have guns, why shoot when you can fucking flashstep! Lai didn’t even have time to react before his opponent swung. Blood gushed out of the stump his head used to lie on as it spun to the right, bounced off the wall and fell to the ground. The crew below was screaming, the armed personnel dropping their weapons in sheer disbelief and joining them. You couldn’t really blame them, its not like they came here to fight monsters.

**lai is dead.**

            In a lab near the middle of the ship, Dave Strider’s face twitches. shit.

 

**they can flashstep.**

**bullshit. theyd have caught me if they could**

**well the one with a hook and a spear for horns can at least. it dodged lai’s bullet and decapitated him while making it look easy.** Dave peered over a desk, standing when he sees the coast is clear.

 

**so where’s the fucker now**

 

            Hesitantly, not liking where this going, you tell him, **its taken over the bridge. the other two squads are meeting up there, they’ve got everyone but you and me. lai’s the only casualty.**

            You can hear gears turning in Dave’ head. **theres definitely no way to the engine room**

 

**unless you drilled through the floor to get to it. I don’t think we could survive the trip with a gaping hole in the ceiling though.**

**welp its been fun john. say hi to jade and rose when you get back and tell bro I went out guns blazing against an alien ninja.**

**dave dont do it. don’t reenact every last stand ever made come on man.**

**john lets be real here either i do this or i submit myself to the hottest tentacle porn ever created. actually that’s sounding pretty sweet right about now**

**eeeeeew. gross!** Movement on the bridge distracts you from Dave’s sick fantasy. Captain hook is now walking down the main hall with nubs’ squad and the captured humans.  Your hands hover over the keys. They’re close to Dave’s hiding spot. **dave the hooked one’s left the bridge, if you’re lucky none of the others are super soldiers and you can take them out, unlock the transportalizer, and get over here.**

**how with magic? i’m not batman bro. the dick is right outside?**

**…its about to pass you.**

**wish me luck**

            Dave threw down his phone and crushed it with a stomp. He burst out of the lab into the main hall, gun raised high. You feel a single moment of hope when the aliens all freeze with surprise. The gun barrel ignites as the trigger is pulled.

 

            The timing was perfect. The situation was perfect. Dave caught the invaders in a moment of blind, assured triumph. If you could ask him why, then, the bullet traveled miles wide from its intended mark, he wouldn’t have been able to give a believable answer. The trajectory just shifted.

 

            “NO!” You scream. That should have hit! Dave’s shot grazes nub’s helmet instead, throwing the alien soldier off balance. Small comfort. Your friend freezes for a split second in disbelief, and in that split second hook horn gets over its shock and rushes forward, fist forward. Dave tries to dodge, but takes a glancing blow to the side of his head. Just a touch, but it sends him flying into the wall like he had been launched out of a cannon. Dave crumples on contact, dropping his gun as he falls to the floor.

 

            Hook turns toward your friend, raising a booted foot for a finishing stomp. “Don’t do it.” You growl. “Don’t you even-“ A blur spins past hooks head, causing it to jump back. A long, gleaming blade is now embedded in the wall. Nubs stomps over to pry out the sickle it just threw, another alien moving over towards Dave as he does. The creature crouches over him, and you feel relieved when he it starts checking for a pulse. You start getting nervous when it fumbles around for something on its belt, and transition to the freaking out phase when it jabs a blue spike into Dave’s neck. “Not cool!” You yelp. “I thought you were on my side, grunt number five! What the heck?”

 

            The grunt (dirty nasty traitor) slings Dave’s limp body over its shoulder. It turns to nubs and hook, who both seem to be trying to melt each others helmets with their eyeballs. Whatever it communicates catches their attention. Nubs nods and jabs its thumb over its shoulder. _Okay, good. They’re not going to kill him, just taking him prisoner like everyone else._ A sigh of relief was definitely in order there. _If he’s lucky, they’ll put him on tentacle massaging duty or something. Now for my turn. Time to get out of here and get some help!_ You turn towards Bec. Wait, the mood isn’t right… aha, got it! You crack your knuckles in a, uh, determinedly fashion. Oh yeah. John Egbert’s about to get mathematical on your collective ass, alien race!

 

            One palm scan later, and the wall slid open to reveal yours and Jade’s baby. The SPS was surprisingly compact for such a powerful piece of engineering. Your initial projections required a much larger device, until Jade kept downsizing the testing betas with new improvements. This version was experimental drive zeta, or something. Its dimensions were equal to your compartments, separated by a five-foot divider. You still couldn’t see the actual engine, but opening the door gave you access to the inbuilt monitoring equipment and, most importantly, a console that would give you complete control over the drive.

 

            You log in. _Don’t worry guys. I’ll see you again soon!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Dave's use of punctuation will be the death of me. He barely ever uses it in canon, but because run on sentences are annoying and 100% of his dialogue is through texts I had to spare some periods from my genocidal rampage. I wanted to color the text, but for some reason it defaults to black when I post it. If anyone knows a way around this, please let me know.
> 
> Between the two of them, I've found that John is going to be the hardest to write. It was difficult to not turn him into a quipster. That's not really who John is. His humor either falls flat or is really damn subtle, like, the kind of ironic subtlety the Striders wish they had and leaves no one the wiser.It doesn't help that this chapter isn't made for character exploration. Thankfully, I have a whole story for that! Now to work on the next one.
> 
> Let me know about any mistakes. Also, expect chapter 1 to undergo some minor revisions as I edit out any problems I missed. Review, criticize, kudos, send me chocolates, you know the drill.


	3. The Great Escape (Attempt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sollux Captor has two important choices to make, each with grave, long term consequences that will impact the fates of everything he knows and loves.
> 
> Only one proves to be difficult in any way. The other is a complete no brainer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe that, before this chapter, I honestly disliked Sollux? I still do, slightly, but damn. Where the hell did this monster come from?

Your name is Sollux Captor, and you haven’t been feeling well since you were repurposed as a ship engine. You sort of expected this to happen, but it still sucked filial residue.

Back in the days of conscription, you had a plan. Well, several plans actually. Plan A was to pull some strings with some high bloods who owed you favors or could maybe possibly called “friends” instead of “preening overlords of the load gaper kingdom”. You asked them to take you on as a personal “asset”, as demeaning as that sounded, because at least then you would have some fucking autonomy. As in, not grafted to a bunch of tubes and wires. Unfortunately, the guys who owed you didn’t want to risk getting culled for concealing a highly powerful psionic from the empire, and all of your friends sans Karkat were recruited early when they started to show signs of unusual talents. They left alternia to undergo all sorts of tests to figure out how their powers worked, then got themselves shipped straight off to the fringes of the empire to participate in glorious conquest. The lucky fuckers.

Plan B was to hack into the empire’s databases and create a new identity for you. You liked this plan the most, honestly. A name and blood change later, and you could ship yourself off to a colony world. There, you’d ditch the fake ID to avoid any awkward questions about why you leaked yellow instead of rust and lay low for the rest of your days, doing some techy stuff on the side. Unfortunately, the mind of one desperate, handsome, dashing genius hacker was quickly stumped by several thousands of years of firewalls, security updates and a bunch of false leads that would activate tracking programs to hunt you down. Maybe if you had a few sweeps ago, you could have cracked it. For some reason the thought of trying to weasel out of your fate hadn’t occurred to you until Karkat brought it up in conversation. You suppose you had spent so long suppressing the thought of your doom, it just slipped your mind. By that unholy squid thing, you were an idiot.

Plan C was to flee into the wilderness of alternia and hide. No sane troll would dare stray into the untamed lands for longer than necessary, unless your name was Nepeta. Luckily, you had kickass psychic powers and a decent if unstable head on your shoulders to protect you from the fierce flora and fauna. Hell, you could have just flown all of your stuff over to Nepeta’s abandoned hive. It wasn’t a perfect plan, of course. The empire liked to keep an eye on known psionics to find helmsman candidates. You were just going to have to chance that whomever they sent to track you down would give you up for dead once they realized where you’d gone.

Plan D came about as an extension of Plan C. You were online, gloating to Karkat and Terezi about your cunning strategy. Terezi wished you luck in her own weird way. Karkat called you an assheaded buttmuncher for thinking up such a harebrained scheme, but basically meant the same. You closed the chatlog, preparing to turn in for the day when you got a PM from Karkat. You figured it was the rest of the rant cut short by your sudden withdrawal from the conversation.

You didn’t expect him to ask if he could come with you.

He didn’t give a reason, and kept dodging the question. Eventually, you threatened to fly over to his hive, take some pictures and spread his ugly ass face all over the net if he didn’t spill. Karkat kept mum until it was only a perigree from conscription, where every troll of 8 sweeps would be shipped off world. The pressure of a looming deadline made him spill: his blood was off the hemospectrum, and there was pretty much no way the highblood castes would let that slide.

The revelation didn’t hit you like a truck. More like a ball of wet socks to the crotch. It explained a lot about Karkat to you; why he always typed in gray, got real touchy about blood colors and had way to many emotional issues. At least you had some fucked up shit going down on top of a bipolar mental state to explain your baggage. Not to mention that Terezi would probably hunt him down and turn him into a cherry punch dispenser if she ever found out he bled her favorite color.

Anyways, while you were busy thinking about the implications Karkat was doing his darn best to hyperventilate through a computer. Poor guy took your silence as a damnation, and basically started begging you to take him along, or to at least not be an ass and report him to some stuffy purple blooded douchebag who would probably make his death slow and unnecessarily painful.

Naturally, this insult on your integrity called for war. One ten minute flame battle later, the two of you had made plans to meet up at the edge of “civilized” (or as civilized as trolls got) territory, make like a yellow peeler fruit and split. Karkat would leave a few days early, since he lived pretty deep into the adolescent lands. So did you, but you could fly. Thus, Plan D came into being. Even as a part of you grumbled about having to spend long hours of isolation with Karkat, of all the fuckers in the world, you felt sort of relieved that you’d have someone to lean on out in the wild. When you two weren’t arguing- so, like, almost never, -you were the best of friends. This whole exile thing could be pretty sweet.

The early arrival of the recruitment fleet literally the very next day took that dream, curb stomped it, tore out its unborn mammalian children and punted them into the ocean. You sort of lost the capacity for rational thought when the news came in, so you could only scream “Why? Why thow up now, you thtupid grubfuckerth!” as you frantically panicked. But in retrospect, the reason was kind of obvious. Your ten old friends had since become notorious for their abilities, and naturally the empire would want to know if any other miracle trolls popped up for them to exploit. Or cull. The novelty of the Ten Blessed made them an exception, but any “miracle child” that was deemed dangerous would get forked for being a mutant in a heartbeat. The fleet showed up early to weed out any new Blessed ASAP.

Speaking of mutants. Your manic frenzy came to a cold halt. Karkat hadn’t even left his hive. A quick check of the conscription schedule showed the fleet would split up and land at different spots on alternia, each subsection expanding from that point until every known inhabited sector was swept for eligible trolls. Karkat’s hive was uncomfortably close to one of these landing areas. The recruiters had much more sophisticated modes of transportation than alternian trolls; he had no chance of beating them to the wilderness. Even if you flew, you probably couldn’t grab him in time. Karkat was fucked.

You tried to shrug it off. Yeah, sure, so one of your best friends was going to be murdered in cold blood for having a bad paint job. At least it would be a swift and painless death at the end of the culling fork- wait, there'll be indigo bloods among the recruiters. Ha ha, definitely not painless then! Oh well. “How did that bitch put it?” you asked your wrecked block. “”Themth the breakth!” or thome thit? Ahahah!” The fake laughter wasn’t very convincing, but it was getting harder and harder to use your telekinesis and the idea of running away became fainter and fainter inside you head. Instead, a new, much more stupidly insane scheme took its place.

In a flash, you had you husk top out. Typing furiously, you enacted the newly minted Plan Idon’tgiveafuck: Give Karkat a new identity. You knew he probably entered in his blood color as something like brown, or if he was feeling really braindead anonymous, but the mandatory blood test during conscription would expose him without question. The mediterminator’s needle penetrating your friend’s skin was the game over condition, and had to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately, even once you got inside the database there was little you could do about that. Fortunately, steps two and three should take care of that. At least you thought they should. You were kind of making this up on the spot and not liking where it was going at all.

Getting past security was easy when you didn’t give a shit about getting caught. That was part of the plan, so who cared? Not you. The trick wasn’t just to give Karkat a harmless blood type, but to avoid drawing attention to the fact that something was changed. Well, it’s hard to find a tree in the forest, so if the entire empirical network crashed and burned, a minor medical alteration would go unnoticed. In theory anyways, this was kind of a gamble. Not very elegant, but you didn’t have much time before you or Karkat got caught.

Before you unleashed digital Armageddon, there was still the medical test to bypass. Step one was to change Karkat’s status from recruit to previously registered luggage. You assigned him as an owned asset to Terezi, with the excuse that he’d been left behind when she’d been unexpectedly whisked away. Because Karkat would be owned and approved of by a sorta-highblood, he’d have automatic clearance to be reunited with his “master” without delay. You fired off a quick message to Terezi, “ju2t confirm thi2. ii promise everythiing wiill be fine.” so she’d roll with it when an angry bulgemuncher got dropped on her doorstep. He’d probably hate you for this, but you were saving his life so fuck him. You waited for the reassignment to go through to the fleet. After that was done, goodbye Internet, you’re about to have the hangover of your fucking life.

Still, this wouldn’t guarantee that a stickler for rules wouldn’t jab something into his arm anyways. So, now it was time for part three. With a sigh, you closed your husk top, then psionically crushed it to bits. No time to stay, the disciplinary drones reserved for punishing dissidents would have tracked the virus trails back to you. It would take them maybe ten minutes to reach your hivestem.

You walked over to a window, pushing its bars out into open space. One foot placed itself on the windowsill in preparation for flight. A dozen floors beneath you is chaos, droves of 8 sweep old trolls screeching in the early hours of the night. They’re running in conflicting directions, either trying to get to their hives to pack what they can or dragging their luggage through the rabid crowd to get to the enlistment building. Some of the noise is pained screaming, trolls who got a little too excited and decided to let some blood flow. You reflect that you’re not going to miss everything about alternia, especially the parts like this. You can only hope that whatever ship you end up on is nicer than the hell down below.

Silently, you launch yourself into the open sky. You feel weightless for a second, and just as gravity starts to pull a pulsing red and blue aura propels you upward. It’s been a while since you’ve gone on a psionic flight, and you try to savor the moment. You haven’t brought anything with you. There is only one thing you’re going to take.

It isn’t easy, but you manage to lift your lusus off the hivestem roof. The two of you fly far from the city, your destination about halfway to Karkat’s location. It’s hidden in a forest, but a part of you remembers this place well. Thirty minutes of flight brings you to the grub caverns.

You’re really grateful lusii naturally lose interest in their charges around this time, unless the troll wants to keep the lusus and makes an effort to prolong the relationship. As is, you kind of expected to take Biclopsdad with you, but with what you’re about to do, it would be best to drop him off here so he can start raising a new grub. The two headed idiot rumbles as you set him down, mono eyes blinking in expectation.

You roll your eyes behind the shades. “No, you blubber brained moron, I’m abandoning you in the middle of the fucking woodth. Do I look like I have any mind honey on me?” The biclyops just blinks some more. For a second you think he must have snuck some mind honey when you weren’t looking, because he’s looking more self-aware than usual. The blue and red eyes go on and off, like stoplights. “Fuck man, don’t make thith awkward. Just get in the damn cave.” You turn him around with your psionics, and give him a gentle prod towards a giant crack in the ground. “Now get, before thome musclebeatht cometh and thquathheth uth under itth gloriouthly thweaty peckth. I’ve got an ungrateful nookwhiffer to thave.”

Bicloyps dad stares dumbly at the cavern entrance. Just as you start to get antsy, he turns around with a sage expression on his two heads. He reaches out with one hand and you take a step back, ready for a calm-down strife when he pats you on the head with one meaty finger, rubbing affectionately between the horns. In that instant, you are somewhere else.

Its warmer, something bright kind of burns and everything’s way way way too big – and something’s holding you, blocking out the light and carrying you somewhere safe. It’s big, but really soft too, scratching delicately between your juvenile horns at just the right angle. The rumbling sound it makes puts you to sleep instantly.

When you come back from remembering, Biclopsdad is trudging down into the caverns and your face feels kind of hot. You look down to see yellow tear stains on your shirt. Looking back up, Biclopsdad has been absorbed by the darksness. “…Yeah. Bye to you too.” You choke out.

You take to the air again. _Karkat better appreciate that I’m thaving hith thtupid behind._

+++++

It takes you another half hour to get to Karkat’s enlistment area. Unlike yours, the enlistment takes place at makeshift stations set up by the ships proper, since its out in the country with space to land. Long lines of trolls stand in front of a shorter line of checkouts, security stations and, last but not least, the mediterminators waiting to perform medial examinations. Behind them are three ships and three open hangar doors – home free. You got a hesitant message from Terezi vouching for her ownership of Karkat and his condition on the way here, so all that’s left is to make sure the little bugger is in position.

TA: 2up a22hole.

CG: WHAT DID YOU DO?

TA: where are you riight now?

CG: THEY TOLD ME I WAS A HIGHBLOOD ASSET. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO? I KNOW IT WAS YOU SO DON’T TRY TO WIGGLE OUT OF THIS ONE.

TA: alriight so you’re pa2t 2ecuriity. Are you iin the 2hiip? 

CG: NO IM STANDING HERE WONDERING WHY IM NOT DEAD. WHILE WATCHING THIS SECURITY OFFICER ARGUE WITH A BLUE BLOOD ABOUT GETTING ME ON THE SHIP. ALIVE. AND BY ALIVE, I MEAN WITHOUT A TEN GODDAMN INCH NEEDLE STICKING OUT OF MY SCRAWNY FOREARM, WHICH WIILL ENSURE I GO ON AS A STONE COLD BODY BAG BECAUSE ONCE IT GOES IN, THE WHOLE SHEBANG IS UP AND I. AM. FUCKED.

TA: ii thought iit’d be liike that.

CG: OH, DID YOU? WAS THAT BEFORE OR AFTER YOU DECIDED TO STAB ME IN THE BACK LIKE THE UNGRATEFUL SOPOR WHIFFER YOU ARE? I KNEW YOU COULD BE A TOTAL ASS, BUT SELLING ME INTO FUCKING SLAVERY IS REALLY LOW MAN. OH FUCK, AM I ACTUALLY A “FUCKING” SLAVE NOW? AS IN, I’LL HAVE TO GET IT ON WITH. OH GOD THAT WAS YOUR PLAN WASN’T IT? TO EXPOSE MY STUPID SWILL IN THE MOST HORRIFI-FUCKING-LI MORTIFYING MANNER YOUR RETARDED SEESAW OF A THINKPAN COULD COOK UP? IS THAT IT? WHATS THE SCOOP BEST FRIEND, AFRAID I MIGHT DETHRONE YOU AS THE KING OF L337 HAXXOR SKILLZ IF LEFT UNOPPOSED? BECAUSE I’VE JUST SEEN THE HEIGHT OF YOUR POWER OH GREAT ONE, AND I GOT TO SAY? YOU DISSAPOINT ME, YOU NOOK FACED LUSUS FUCKER.

TA: kk, when you’re done talkiing to your2elf get ready to run iinto the 2hiip. 2ay hii to tz for me.

CG: WHAT?

You think you can see him down below, in the middle line. You think its him anyways, you have trouble imagining anyone else flailing like that while in the presence of adult trolls. Speaking off you may or may not have pissed yourself when you realized that yes, there are adult trolls here. You swallow down some treacherous bile. Too late to turn back now.

With a scream, you let off a pulse of energy. Down below, you know that every piece of hardware even remotely biological just went apeshit bananas. Mediterminators scream as their scanners short circuit in an explosion of sparks. A security guard’s custom made flail comes to life and starts frantically whipping everything around it. Portable terminals catch on fire, headphones suddenly turn all the way up, the rare pair of rocket shoes spontaneously activate and cannot be turned off. Mayhem spreads as the pulse expands. A few smart adolescents start sprinting towards the nearest safe zone: the ships, whose own psionic defenses spring to life and block the wave. Observing your handwork with a feral smile, you think Karkat got the message.

Suddenly something yanks you from the air and hurls you towards the ground. You recognize the telekinetic assault in time to neutralize the attack and catch yourself, just inches from becoming a pancake. You identify the attacker as a green blooded officer, which is surprising. You thought the helmsmen inside the ships would make the first move. A flick of the wrist breaks her mental block and sends her sprawling.

You soak that in for a moment. You just sent an experienced adult psionic flying. Sure, she wasn’t helmsman material, but still. That’s… encouraging. You smirk, letting power envelope the air around you. The guards have mostly abandoned any attempt to curb the stampeding crowd and are now focusing on you. More personal try to get fight the tide and exit the ships, trying to join the battle. For now it’s you against forty, maybe more if there were more hidden by the adolescent mob. Hundreds of trolls were here, so there are probably more adults lying in wait. So, as an estimate, maybe a hundred trolls already outside the ships, waiting for a fight.

It occurs to you, as the forty visible attackers cry and charge forward, you’ve never had much time to really explore you’re psionic powers, between messing around with computers and living in a cramped city filled with temperamental children. You take a moment to reach deeper into the wellspring. It’s a bit deeper than you thought.

One wave of power breaks the charge. Snapping bones and screams narrate the adults as they shoot through the air. More guards pry themselves from the crowd. You grabbing the closest, and throw them back towards the ships. You hope they take the hint and stay out of this fight. After the first few it almost becomes a game; grab the guards in multiples of two, send them flying. Rinse and repeat.

The first big challenge comes from where you expected it, the helmsmen. Azure, rose and emerald colored energy flare around you, with the intent to crush. Oxygen flees from your lungs, and you fall to your knees. Your eyes crackle as you try to shove them off. Even from this distance their power really is incredible, magnified and directed by the helmsman rig they’d been grafted to.

Come on. You snarl and struggle. Thethe guys are fucking wimpth. You’ve got a goddman mutant brain, you stupid fucking panthy. Thethe guyth don’t have anything on your thweet ath. Another snarl. You reach into the wellspring again.

The psionic explosion makes the your energy pulse look like a peashooter. Sweet, painful energy shoots from your eyes. The helmsmen’s energy is torn to shreds by the optic blast. The twin beams barely miss the left ship and sail onwards, twinkling in the distance. You’re panting, but not from effort. If anything, you feel… rejuvenated.

Grinning, you trace the energy trail back to the three helmsmen that assaulted you. With so much psionic power mingling at once, you glimpse flashes from their perspective: beeping monitors, trolls frantically trying to put out fires and adjust the rigs. Your three assaulters hang from their bonds in shock, but they’re already marshaling a second assault.

Your fingers curl. No. Wires rip. Nah. Panels explode in apple blueberry explosions. Not today, thuckerth. You tear apart the three rigs piece by piece. The helmsmen scream, but you push through. You only stop when each one is unconscious. You breathe out. Tho, whatth next-

Chills run through your brain and down your spine. New trolls stroll leisurely out from the ships, dressed in indigo and wearing clown make-up. Subjugulators. you whisper in your own mind.

Any other time, you would be fearful. But even as feelings of terror, despair and crushing bloodlust enter your thinkpan and try to rip it to ieeny teeny tiny shreds, you feel kind of let down. They sent what, ten? Ten subjuggulators to catch you, Sollux fucking Captor? Uh uh, nope. Not gonna fly.

The clowns don’t run, they simply stalk forward leisurely, weapons swinging at their sides. From the cocky looks on their faces, they haven’t noticed that you’re not feeling all that subjuggulated by their psychics. They must be newbies. You nod, and a telekinetic ceiling crashes down on the highbloods, smushing them into the ground. They’re not dead, but they won’t be getting up any time soon.

“Got anything elth?” You screech triumphantly. Power, wonderful incredible power, courses through your very being. Who knew you had this strength? Who knew you could accomplish all of this? Not you. But now you do, and so does the empire. And that’s how you also know, even in victory, that they’re never, ever going to let you go no matter how many foes you squash.

“Sollux Captor!” Someone’s shouting at you with a voice amplifier. You peer forward, trying to see who it is. “Givve yourself up peacefully, and I can at least guarantee your continued survvivval!”

Your eyes widen. On top of the middle ship, ridiculous cape flapping in the breeze, is Eridan Ampora of the Blessed. “Oh you have got to be shitting me.” You look up at whatever god manages your fate. “Why?”

“You havve twwenty seconds to respond, before wwe resort to forceful methods.” It’s Eridan alright, and he’s barely changed. He’s taller, taller than you now probably, and from this distance it looks like he has some fancy purple uniform on. He’s holding Ahab’s Crosshairs, which is to be expected. He still had that terrible wwavvy accent that made you want to gag. His professional exterior is ruined by the cape. It keeps flapping in his face and hitting the mike, making screechy noises. The fact that he climbed on top of a ship to talk to you shows he’s just as melodramatic as ever.

You shout, “Beat it, athhat, unleath you feel like eating dirt.” It’s too far to tell, but you know his eye just twitched.

“Ten seconds.” He snarls into the voiceplifier.

You snort. “Bullthit, ith only been five. I want a recount.”

“Coddamit Sol!” He whines. There’s the Ampora you remember. “Do you wwant to come quietly or not?”

“Gueth, athwipe!” You spread your arms outward in challenge. “Why don’t you come down tho I can tell you in pertain?” Sparks dance at your finger tips. “It’ll be quick, promith.”

“Thanks, but I can shoot perfectly wwell from up here.” he sneers. You give a brave smirk, but anxiety dances at the back of your mind. Eridan’s a dick, but he knows you could easily equal the Crosshair’s firepower from first hand experience. What’s with the bravado?

You get your answer when he exhales white smoke, and everything around you seems to darken as Eridan starts glowing.

Right. Blessed bastard. You ready another optic blast. Eridan’s floating slightly now, surrounded by a steaming white orb. He takes aim with the Corsshair’s. You both fire at the same time, white meeting appleberry blast.

At first the attacks are evenly matched. You can’t see anything but an explosion of colors. Whatever Eridan’s shooting is slowly eroding the psionic energy. Ignoring the growing pounding in your head, you really wished you’d asked one of your other friends what Eridan’s unique talent was. The knowledge probably wouldn’t help the fact that you were losing, but you’d at least know why.

When the white finally overwhelms the red-blue blast it hits you dead on. The stuff stings more than anything else, its brightness seeping into your body and burning it. You feel yourself scream silently, all sensation replaced by a blank nothingness. Eventually the light fades, leaving you on your back several hundred feet from where you started. You can’t move, much less think. The only reason your not in pain is because your nerves are all fried. Your vision is blurry, flickering.

Eridan steps into view, a small smidge of concern barely concealed by his wide smirk. You twitch your limbs in an effort to knee him in the crotch. “You knoww Sol,” he tells you, “I don’t knoww if this was an attempt to go dowwn in a suicidal blaze of glory or somefin, but it was pretty stupid.”

You black out before you can give him some clever retort. When you next wake up it’ll be suspended between ceiling and floor with wires out of your everything, a living battery for intergalactic conquest. On Eridan’s personal ship, yee fucking haw.

It was a nightmare. You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t scream. You could still see, but your head was rooted in place by a helmet that restrained your powers. No matter how much you coaxed it, your body would not respond. The ever present feeling of energy being leaked from your being to power the craft encircling you, like blood flowing from an open wound, threatened to drive you insane.

As a helmsman, your existence had consisted of little other than feeding your enormous power into the _Paninator_ , acting as both its power source and greatest weapon. The only reprieve from this agonizing experience had been visits from both your friend/“friends”, the ten Blessed. Now eleven, as Eridan smugly informed you. Apparently your freakish brain produced such incredible amounts of energy the empire had decided to add you to the super special awesome club for retards. This did not help your situation much. Made you wonder why the hell they let Eridan keep you on his stupid scouting ship instead of a mega cruiser though. Probably some highblood hoofbeast shit about the spoils of battle or something.

While not always pleasant, you suspect that the visits from your friends/”friends” helped keep you lucid, unlike most other helmsmen who lose their sense of self very quickly. It reminded you of living on alternia, when you could move all you wanted and spend the day snarking at all of them until the sun came up.  
They all reacted differently to your imprisonment: Terezi was saddened, but always covered it up with a laugh and a smile. Eridan, of course, was smug all the goddamn time about how he captured you. At least he spent more time arguing with you than gloating. The two of you got mutual satisfaction at leaving the other steaming. You sometimes wonder if you’ve gone a little pitch for him, then remember it doesn’t really matter considering your position. Vriska would walk in and just laugh at you. That as it. Just. Laughing. Then she stopped coming for a long while, and when she did start coming back she would boast about her role in the invasions the _Paninator_ took part in. Annoying, but at least it gave you an idea of what was going on outside. Karkat spent most of his time visiting playing movie marathons for the two of you to watch together; you suspected that he came as often as possible, for as long as excusable. He seemed safe as an officer onboard, with the help of black market diluents he was buying on the side. The pills darkened his blood so a casual observer would mistake it for a light hue of rust. The others would visit as well, but being stationed elsewhere most of the time meant you saw them rarely.

So overall, life was livable. Still terrible enough to make you wish Eridan hadn’t been there that day, so that you could have just torn apart the empire forces and gone with the original plan to run and hide. But, livable. You had retained your individuality. If nothing else, now you could sympathize with Tavros’ paralysis. It would be great if you could feel your limbs.

It was unfortunate that it didn’t look like you’d be returning to your own body anytime soon.

+++++ 

It started when Vriska dragged into your block an unconscious alien that looked uncomfortably alternian. “Got something for you, Soooooooollux.” She sang as she dropped the creature at the foot of the rig. Two techies ran over to attach sensors where its brain out to be. You groan.

“Fuck Vrithka, ED hath me buthy holding their thip in place, and you want me to do tranthlation now? How do you even know where ith brain ith, it could be in the wathte thoot for all we know.”

The bitch rolled her eyes. “It looks like an alternian genius, so it probably works like us. Logic?”

“No. Thtop. Thtop butchering logic and uth your head for once. Thome of uth like to know what our pan ith about to connect to.” You glare down at her. “If I find mythelf in ith nook I will drive thith thip into a thun.”

“Hey, it’s a gamble right? Bet you it’s the thinkpan!” She gives you a shit eating grin and you snarl. Screw Vriska and her unnatural fortune. 

“Whatever. Thend me in, thuckerth.” You enjoyed establishing your surviving sense of self awareness, it made your caretakers look supremely uncomfortable.They obediently started the translation program. Translation felt fucking weird. A part of your mind was literally sent through the wires connecting rig to alien, while the rest remained with the rig to continue directing psionics. The techies took over holding the alien ship in place while you were distracted, using the rig to assume direct control.

Your mind meshed with the alien’s. The room vanished, replaced by vague images and thoughts. As far as translation sessions went, you felt like this one would be fairly easy. Its impressions seemed based on sense similar to trolls. Cheered by the thought of a quick session, you began combing through the subject's memories, matching them with your archives and making deductions on how they compared. It wasn’t an exact science, but it provided a crucial first step in understanding the enemy. Later, you’d probably be asked to peruse its memories for information on its culture and society, but it was critical to gain an understanding of the enemy’s communications first.

Suddenly, something pinged on the corner of your awareness. At first, you thought the alien was waking up. No. The techies had requested additional psionics from your body, and had directed them to a specific part of the alien ship. Some boxlike compartment underneath it.

Yo, thithtainth. Whatth going on over there?

Energy pulse detected. Readings match to signature to a special jump. Captain Ampora is requesting additional power to prevent an escape attempt.

Ugh, theriothly? That thutipid dipthit, I’m stuck in thith alienth head. Dithengage me, fatht.

Acknowledged. Disengaging trans-

The message was cut off as your mind tore in twain. You were simultaneously aware of latching onto the alien ship, the box compartment, being trapped in the rig, and melding with the alien mind. The compartment had jumped, without picking up any sort of velocity or charging any psionic energy. Latching onto it psychically did nothing to stop it, but as it went you went too. And, the parts of you not screaming at being torn in four different directions realized, so did anything you were holding.

Another’s joined your screaming. The alien was awake, and the feedback from being dragged through a spacial warp was flooding into its mind. Your perception shifted; impressions from both your body and the _human’s_ alien’s came in side by side. You could feel your teeth grit as your handlers kept trying to hold onto the alien ship, not realizing it was pointless. Had to get back, had to get back to your body and-

The jump stopped. You felt the box compartment vanish from your grasp as the human ship broke into fragments. The _Paninator_ was intact, but it was rapidly falling. Suddenly the connection between your mind and body _snapped_.

what the fuck

what the fuck?

You both screamed, and psionic power carved through the ship’s hull. You/he/the two of you launched yourself through the hole, desperately trying to get away from each other. You were miles above a foreign planet _colony Lolar_ , but it didn’t matter. Red blue psionics caught you, launched you across an ocean made of dazzling lights. It didn’t matter. You were trapped in an alien’s head. And you were free of the rig. Cry or laugh, you both knew one thing.

hell if ii’m 2tiickiing around.

hell if I'm sticking around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEHOLD, COLORED TEXT! Thanks to celyn_brum for giving me advice like five months ago. Go check out their stuff. All of it. Go on. If you had time to read this, you probably have a few minutes to start on Alternian Nation at least. 
> 
> Wow. I actually had this chapter practically finished a long time ago, but it took me so long to get down and complete it.  
> It was originally going to be SO MUCH shorter, but that flashback kept on expanding. Writing the psionic showdown was oodles of fun. Hopefully its equally thrilling to read!  
> (seriously i don't even like sollux what the shit)
> 
> In other news, chapter one has been revised. Again. 
> 
> So, yeah. Read, worship, criticize, you guys know how this goes. Just remember to enjoy!


	4. Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terezi and Karkat want to plan out their future. Unfortunately, the status quo is about to break apart around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE!! Man, I thought these things were extinct. Turns out there were hundreds still hiding in the amazon. Good news for you guys! I have so many mosquito bites now. Ow ow ow ow....

You are Karkat Vantas, co-captain of the _Paninator’s_ assault team, indentured servant to the legislacerator Terezi Pyrope, sufferor of idiots and all around hardened badass. In your time you have seen dozens of civilizations crushed under alternian assaults, and slayed more alien scum than you care to count. In spite of that, you aren’t looking forward to the upcoming interstellar war your “master” is discussing with you. Discussing at you.

 

            “Who else can we get in on this? I’m thinking that we should embellish a bit more. Describe how savagely the aliens resisted. Surely, only the power of all eleven Blessed combined could save the empire from these squishy angels of destruction!” Terezi hums, lounging in the alien commander’s former chair. She bounces her dragon cane against a red boot, grinning evilly. “Think about it, Karkat. An invasion force accompanied by all eleven of us for the first time in history!”

 

            Your eyes snap from the bloodstains on the floor. “Why the hell should we go through the effort of dragging them all out here? Everyone covets those fuckers like they were made of fucking diamond, and grope their assignment orders harder than their first flush crush. Besides, these aliens are a bunch of spineless pacifists. The only thing they’ve got going for them is their fucking weird fascination with metal boxes.” It was kind of creeping you out. Being on this ship was like standing in a hollow muscle beast corpse. You kept wondering where the rotting flesh and maggots were. “We’ll roll over them in two perigrees, tops, and look like pan dead cartilage dribblers for wasting everyone’s fucking time!”

 

            “How little faith you have, Karkat. This is one alien ship. Imagine the vast armadas our nemesis hides from our sight, waiting for idiots like you to drop their guard. Remember the shark men of Watery Deathworld V?”

 

            You cross your arms to hide the shivers. “Fucking hell, that name is dumb. Who’s in charge of naming conquered worlds? Think of anything, even a maggot riddled hoofbeast corpse, and it probably has more imagination than that person. I could come up with a better name jacked up on soper slime and in the middle of pailing with an entire blood cast. It’d still be dumb as shit, but at least I’d have an excuse.”

           

Terezi drubs you in the ribs. “Karkat that was horrendously disgusting and unrelated to the question.” She turns around, eyebrows wriggling. “And what’s with this talk of pailing? Felling a little… backed up?”

 

            “Fuck, what? Why would you even ask that? Didn’t your stupid lusus teach you some decent fucking manners? OH WAIT,” you gasp and smack your forehead. “she basically completely useless! Guess we know why that thing you call a thinkpan is empty as fuck!”

 

            “You brought it up, so don’t go blaming my lusus.” She wags her finger. “You’re just jealous that you had to settle for a grumpy crab monster, while my caretaker was a badass dragon.”

 

            “Hah!” you laugh. “That’s rich. Mine didn’t spend the first 6 sweeps of my life as a fucking egg! When he wanted to tell me something, he could just walk over and say it instead of invading my dreams every night! Just thinking about makes me want to empty my waste shoot.”

 

            “Well, that just means you weren’t educated in the delicious dreamscape of delicious rainbows and the tears of the condemned. But enough about how much better I am than you in every way.” Her cane jabbed into your abdomen. “Help me think of some way to get some of the Blessed under our command.”

 

            You knock her cane out of the way. “Why? Seriously, there’s literally no reason. These turds will give up the moment a splinter fleet shows up on their home world.” Terezi frowns.

 

            “Because they’re our friends, Karkat! Friends we haven’t seen in a forever.”

 

“Uh, really? Cause last I checked, we’ve got one water breathing asshole with a swelled head, Sollux, and a blue-blooded maniac for company.”

 

            “Just shut up and help me!” Terezi spun back around, cane tapping against the ground. “Now, Nepeta’s always up for some fun! If we can get Nepeta, roping in Equius in will be grubs play.”

 

            “Aradia’s unoccupied last I heard. She might want to visit Sollux.” You chip in in spite of yourself.

 

            “Hmm.” Terezi taps the armrest with a single claw. “No, strike that from the record. We are not inviting her.”

 

Whoa what? “Excuse me, but what the hell? You’re going to invite the creepy sweat monster, but exclude the… uh.”

 

            Terezi laughs with a hint of strain. “Exclude the creepy emotionless girl? I’m considering it.” She blew out a breath. “Aradia’s not in a good state for cheering up Sollux. In fact, he’d probably get even grouchier.”

 

            You have to concede the point. Aradia hasn’t smiled in sweeps. “Shit.”

 

“Thanks for making an effort, at least. Let me see, Kanaya should be easy. Command will want her to make a fold here anyways. That leaves Gamzee and Tavros.” She clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Contacting Gamzee is pretty much impossible, and I’m not sure how to go about convincing Tavros.”

 

            “You really are pan-dead if you think he’s coming anywhere near Vriska.” There was no way you were going to make him either, no matter what Terezi wanted.

 

            “Still, it’d be such a wasted opportunity-“

 

A violent tremor rocks the ship. You’ve whipped out a sickle and started reattaching your helmet before the shaking subsides. It’s sides snapped open with a click, and you pull it onto your head from behind. The flaps moved back into place, custom grooves fitting easily over your horns. The HUD activates automatically.“ “Status report. Please tell me one of you bulge bags caught what caused that. Did the prisoners pull something?”

 

            “Negative.”

 

            “Nothing sir.

 

            “No. They seem just as surprised as we do.”

 

Terezi had half risen from the chair, tensed for action, one hand raised to the communicator in her auditory dish. “Eridan, what’s going on?” Her expression darkens. With a twist her cane separates into two short swords “He’s reapplying the psionic grip. Something on this ship is giving off energy readings.”

 

“Fucking great.” You snarl. “They’ve got psionics.”

 

“No, different kind.“ She sniffs. “Hm. This will be very unfun for anyone who isn’t me.” She drops back into the chair and falls into a casual slouch. “Oh, you might want to grab onto something by the way.Things are about to get pretty dicey!”

 

Sniffing. Sudden calmness. Holding to the armrests with a death grip. Oh. OH. You immediately latch yourself to the back of the chair, hands clasped above Terezi’s head, every limb gripping like your life depended on it. “Give me a warning sooner, asswiiiiiiiiiii-“

 

Everything lurches. Massive cracks tear the room apart. Around Terezi the ship stays relatively put together, but elsewhere swathes of metal simply separated, as if they were torn apart by some grubfisted deity. _What the hell what the hell what the hell AGH WHY DOES EVERYTHING BURN?_  Sunlight stabs into your eyes. Whoever designed these tinted visors needed a cull fork up his ass for doing such a crap job. The smell of the sea wafts around you. _Knowing my luck that’s probably an ocean. At least we’re not falling._

“Huh.” Terezi says. You wish she could see so that she could share your pain and HOW CLOSE IS THIS PLACE TO THE GODDAMN SUN? “I thought we’d be falling by now.” You feel your innards curl up and die. “Oh, there we go.”

 

            “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-“ Your scream is joined by your squad’s and the alien’s similar exclamations of pure terror.

 

            “Stop screaming you big wuss.” Terezi admonishes you.

 

            “-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-” You keep screaming, like any sane troll would.

 

            “Geez, were you always this loud? Not that’s surprising. I’m just stating that, for the record, you are really damn loud right now.”

 

            “-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-“

 

            “Y’know, I bet we can get Tavros by requesting him as part of a survey team to study the alien fauna! That just leaves Gamzee, and-“

 

            “-UUUUUUCK YOU STOP BEING SO CALM WHEN WE ARE ABOUT TO DIE!”

 

            “C’mon Karkat, think of it in terms of your romantic dramas!” she giggle, fucking giggles. “Master and servant, falling to their doom. Unable to be together in life, but finally equals in death!”

 

            That-huh, that actually makes for a good conclusion hey wait- “DON’T FUCKING FLIRT WITH ME, DO YOUR FUTURE SIGHT THING AND SAVE US!”

 

            “Honestly, I don’t get why you can’t grasp this. I don’t see the future-because I am blind and therefore that would be dumb- I get an impression of the direct consequences resulting from immediate events.”

 

            “IDON’TREALLYCAREJUSTDOSOMETHING.” You screech. Through blurry, painful vision you see Terezi peek from behind the chair. Everything was a mess of color and shadow, but you imagine that insufferable hell grin consuming her facial features like a gluttonous land magnate muscling in on other territories.

 

            “What am I supposed to do, predict our deaths? Fate is out of my hands,” Crimson light flows over the falling debris. Your descent abruptly halts, nearly shaking you from the seat. You think you hear a sigh of relief. “And now, it’s that random person’s.”

 

Your mouth starts to form an explicative, but words fail you when an alien wearing sunglasses drops into view, graciously intercepting the rays of sunlight murdering your ocular orbs. Red psionic power covers it from head to toe.

Terezi stood. Feet planted firmly on the metal slab beneath her, she juts out her chin in greeting. “Hail, marvelously delicious interloper! Admit to your transgressions, miserable freak, and ye may yet be spared!” She remains silent for a moment, then starts cracking up. “Ahahaahahaaha! Kidding, kidding! So,” she continued conversationally, twirling her sword canes. “you gonna lay down and let me slit your throat like a good little alien, or will you entertain me first?”

 

Your gaze moves from the alien to the madwoman. “We got saved by this alien psionic, and you’re threatening him in? You’re insane!”

 

“Says the guy who’s clinging to a chair like his life depended on it.” Terezi shot back, still facing forward. “It is simply courteous to make a proposition before the first date, especially when it’s the last one they’re ever going to get.” She chuckled darkly.

 

“Shut your mouth, this thing is clearly an indestructible symbol of ultimate authority.” You spit, limbs tightening around your beloved sanctuary. “And I wasn’t referring to your xenophiliac murder-flirting, although that continues to be the single greatest anti-choking treatment known to trollkind. I nearly threw up my organs hearing it. No, you’re insane for assuming an alien life form you just met understood a word of that death threat.”   

 

“Karkat,” she hisses over her shoulder. “The point is to look and sound impressive. Even with the language gap I can still make it clear that I intend to kill him in the most amusing way possible, so stop subverting my message with that hideous language you keep speaking?”

 

“What, alternian?”

 

“No, idiot. Idiot.”

 

The alien tilts its head. It seems otherwise content float harmlessly in the air.

 

“See? There you go again. We don’t even know if these things have genders!”

           

“Stop arguing! It is so obviously probably male!”

 

"Based on what, you’re almighty highblooded-ness?”

 

“Highblood? Teal isn’t even a nobility color!”

 

“ It’s a step over the borderline and you know it!”

 

“Ugh, whatever!” Terezi turns completely around, meeting your scathing glare as well as a blind person could. “These aliens are practically identical to trolls.” You made a disgusted sound. “On a surface level. They even have rumble spheres!” You do remember that. Not that you were looking. “I smelled you looking, don’t deny it.” _Fuck!_ “You don’t see many males trolls walking around with a pair of those bouncing around, do you? Logically, this troublemaker is likely to be male, considering his lack of fatty tissue sacks and the superficial similarities between our two species. Is your thinkpan so full of cartilage snot that you couldn’t infer something so simple?”

 

“Fuck you, that proves nothing! Maybe it has traditionally female genitalia!”

 

            She threw her hands into the air. “Ugh! What about you, Mr. Cool Guy? You seem awfully composed. Give me a hand, would you? I’m on your side her, show some gratitude!”

 

            “Yeah, um, I was thinking of a good yo-mama joke, but now I’m not sure if you losers even got those so never mind.” it replies in broken alternian.

 

Terezi straightens. You let go of the chair. The alien shrugs. “What can I say, you two stole the show. Lights out, roll credits and strike the set, the stars have already left the building. In spirit obviously cause you two are still here.” It pauses, expecting a response. “Seriously, you’re still staring? Is it the accent? It’s probably the accent. Bet I sound like your equivalent of a barely fluent Frenchman right now as part of an ironic hell for making fun of the poor bastards in my youth. Damn gods of irony forgetting to take into account the influencing factors of male adolescence. Oh yeah human pro tip; I have a schlong you retards so stop arguing over which one of you gets to suck it.” He waited another moment. “This is a fucking let down. Can you go back to arguing, that was way more entertaining.”

 

“Who are you?” Terezi’s voice cut in, knocking you out of your stupor. You curse and rose up, bringing your sickle up to-

_Oh fuck me. I didn’t holster it before everything went to hell._ You raise your fists into guard position. Your opponent doesn’t seem to notice. _Fuck those shades, I can’t tell what he’s looking at. First thing I’m going to do is take those._ You adjust your position, trying to get a better view of the creature. Its features were cast in shadow by the obnoxious sunlight, even with the corona of red haze coating it. _And then wear them instead of this shitty helmet, because fuck this sun. Fuck this whole solar system for its obnoxiously bright AGHK._ You hunch down, hiding the light behind the alien once more. _Dammit, I’m fucking useless. Terezi’s the only one who can really fight right now._

The alien shrugs again. “To be honest, I’m not to sure myself.  Used to be just me up in here.” It taps the side of its head. “Now I’ve got this prickly mustardy passenger butting into the captain’s cabin, making all sorts of crazy demands.”

 

While he talks, you run down a mental list for fighting psionics. Step one, where were you? _An uncomfortable distance above water, exposed to the sun and suspended on a tiny piece of rubble by the enemy’s power, and that’s about all I can tell without going blind. Doesn’t get any shittier than that._ Step two, how powerful was the psionic? _It’s suspending, what, and entire ship’s worth of debris and passengers? Where are the others, did he grab them too?_ According to your HUD they were all still alive, but they could still be in free fall for all you knew.

“Mustardy?” Terezi intoned slowly. Her shoulders tense. “What demands?”

 

“Hey, douchebag!” You interrupt. “Unless you’re an even bigger piece of shit than I thought, you wouldn’t have just grabbed us too and let everyone else die horribly, so where are they?”

 

“You don’t know me man. I’m an incomprehensible masterpiece. Picasso wishes his paintings had been inscrutable as yours truly.”

 

“Don’t fuck with me, alien bulgesucker! You owe me a life debt!”

 

“A life debt.” The alien repeats dryly.

 

You jab a thumb towards your chest. “You better believe it. You know how you’re still alive right now? All me! Vriska wanted you dead, a pretty petty demand considering how godawful your attempt at killing her was. I vetoed that shitty command, and look where that got you!”

 

The alien proffers a hand, sliding the other into a pocket. “I’ll be damned.” it says tonelessly. “It got me two of the aliens who what broke into my ship and killed a pretty cool dude at my mercy. See the problem here, nubs?”

 

Oh he did not bring your horns into this. “You-“ Terezi’s hand chops into your windpipe, bringing you to your knees.

 

“Exactly!” she exclaims. “Without Karkat’s errant mercy, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such a powerful position!”

 

“Y-you… flaming bi-” she swiftly stomps down on your neck, pinning you to the floor. You try to breath with her heel grinding against your protein chute. _Fucking stupid goddamn overpowered broken highblood muscles! I will schoolfeed her on what, aghk, happens to, augh, people who, cross, hhhk. Can’t. Breath. This… is… Sollux’s… fault…_

 

            “…maybe I should just leave.” Your captor scratches its head awkwardly. “Aaaaaaand mustard is now laughing. That's swell.”

 

            “Speaking of things you have us to thank for! I take it you acquired your stowaway recently?” Finally, the weight lifts from your neck. Gasping, you look up in time to see Terezi tapping her auricular dish. _The fuck is she doing? That statement called for a head tap._ A notification flashes on your HUD. _Legislacerator Pyrope, all channels? She’s broadcasting this nightmare?_ It hits you. _If she hadn’t broken my goddamn throat I’d be downright grateful. Still going to punch her next time she falls asleep._ “You have Karkat to thank for him as well! You couldn’t have escaped without mustard's help!”

 

            “Damn thtraight- I mean-“ It’s aura flickers. The alien jerks and twists in midair, slowly returning to a relaxed posture. In its struggle, it lowered itself to nearly level with you and Terezi. You raise your hand to block the exposed sun. “Yeah, so what? He’s also responsible for making me take a pit stop to save you two assholes. And apparently, some-” the alien drops out alternian, muttering to itself in some other language. While it’s distracted you grasp a twisted fragment of metal from your platform and wrench at it. You feel it cut into your suit, but you tear off a jagged piece for your efforts. Better than nothing.

 

            The name “Captain Ampora” pops up on the HUD. “Assault team Vvantas, wwhat’s your status?” Terezi turns slightly towards you.

 

You give the helmet designer a tiny bit of credit as you whisper, face safely obscured. “Eridan-“

 

“Kar I’vve told you a million times its Captain now-“

 

“Eridan!” You hiss. Terezi’s arm twitches. You lower your voice. “The alien we sent over to you has us suspended over the ocean with psychic power. We’re stuck out in sunlight, and I don’t know where he has the rest of our squad.”

 

“Kar just contact hem and ask, are you evven trying?”

 

“No, I’m having a grand old time staring down death’s waste shoot!” You carefully adjust your frequency with a flat dial by your temple, opening all channels. “Assault squad Vantas, this is your commanding officer. Respond.” Static. The alien looks up.

 

“Gonna have to ask whoever’s talking during class to shut the fuck up and pay attention.” The alien raises one arm into the air. A large rectangular room rises from behind it. “All your buddies were conveniently cooped up with mine in the lunch-panic room, so take a chill pill before I drop you out of the sky.”

 

You blink in surprise. _It can intercept transmissions?_ “Eridan, the alien has the assault team and aliens in the same place. It’s also running interference on our communications.”

 

“Fuckin hell this day wwon’t stop gettin shittier. Alright I think wwe have a vvisual on you guys. You might wwant to duck.” Terezi shakes her head.

 

“I seriously doubt that!” she covers. “If you had the guts, you would have ignored Mr. Mustard and happily left us to our doom.”

 

“Wait a second! Where are you, relative to the sun?” _Don’t get us killed, Terezi._

 

“Yeah probably. I’d just “accidentally” let you slip instead. Less accountability.”

 

“Facing it dead-on. Could it be any closer? Howw is the entire planet not boillin? I mean it’d explain wwhy there’s nothin other than beaches but still.”

           

“Okay, I think you’re behind us then. I’d really, really appreciate if you didn’t think with your nook and try shooting the alien as long as I’m we're in the line of fire.”

 

            “Anyways, I’m just gonna lower you down so I can get some peace of mind.”

 

“How very considerate of you.” Terezi pauses, and you get a bad feeling. “I’m right, you know.”

 

“Cool don’t care.” The alien half turns away as you begin to descend. “What beach do want your vacation spot to be on? Sand, sand and waves, or sand and fish poo that looks like sand?”

 

“About you not having the guts to kill us.” Terezi continues. She begins swinging one of her blades in a lazy circle. “Any sane opponent would have let us fall, especially after we invaded his ship and murdered a crew member . Was it your captain?” The alien was silent. “It was your captain.” Terezi purred. “I suppose I should thank you for showing courtesy in spite of that. Really, thanks a bunch!” She flashes a razor grin. “But maybe it’s not your fault. You’ve got friend of mine trapped in your head, and I’m guessing he wouldn’t stand for any thoughts of violence, eh?” Realization hits you like a subjuggulator’s club.

 

_Fuck me. Fuck past me with a culling fork, Mr. Mustard is Sollux._ Unease became dead certainty. “Terezi, don’t.”

 

“Don’t what?” she asks innocently. The alien looks from Terezi to you and back, suddenly wary. Eridan’s voice interrupts your plea.

“Relax Kar, I’vve personally drawn a bead on the target so don’t get wwound up. Almost all of our systems are offline on account of Sollux wwimpin out on us, so really there’s no option other than the Crosshairs.”

 

            “Eridan wait!” You said, a smidge too loud.

 

            “Wwhat?” Eridan whined.

 

            “What?” The alien inquires, followed by a foreign swear. “I told him not take chances and just restrain you. Nice going yellow guy, prioritizing your friends comfort levels over our safety.”

 

Terezi makes a tiny high-pitched cough. “Seeing as you’ve made your escape, I’d like you to return him.”

 

            “Oh of course that sounds perfectly agreeable and also necessary. Kidding, kidding. Sorry I’m not sticking around to get captured again.”

 

            “Eridan.” Terezi says sweetly, sheathing her swords. “Fire away. Low power.”

 

            “So long as wwe get this over wwith.” The seadweller mutters.

 

The sky suddenly darkens. Even the obnoxiously bright sun seemed to dim. Deathly white light illuminates the alien. Shock flooded its face. “Holy-“ it gets out before a white beam flies between you and Terezi and strikes it in the midsection. The creature’s air evacuates in a whoosh, but the impact hardly budges it. Between its body and Eridan’s blast a red shield kept the attack from drilling through its body. Slowly, red pushes back white.

 

The aura holding the wrecked ship dies as the alien redirects its focus. You ran, half a step behind Terezi, barely keeping on top of the suddenly unsupported wreckage. The two of you leap at the alien just as the platform falls away completely. Almost certain to die, either from the fall or alien psionic, you scoure your brain for something cool to say or think before the end. You trip up somewhere between a badass one liner and screaming, and instead think longingly of the noble chair that sheltered you with such care. _Holy musclebeast manure. Maybe a war would have been good for me after all, what the festering hell._

By the barest of inches, you catch hold of the alien’s sleeve. Your fingers are screaming, but you retain the grip. Terezi fares better with a hold on his shoulder and neck, swinging just shy of Eridan’s super-special laser blast. Taxed and suddenly much heavier, the alien is forced to descend. The blast travels up its body, smashing into everything between stomach and face. By the time your flying circus leaves the beam behind Eridan cuts the juice, letting it dissipate. Normal lighting returned to the world. The alien appears dazed behind its shades. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of a single red iris. _Focus! You already knew. Even so, what the flying fuck do we do now? I could stab him, but I’d be taking out Sollux at the same time! Shit, do it fast, we’ll hit ground quickly at this rate!_

The alien’s eyes flicker towards you, and you feel it’s power hold you in place, leaving the creature and Terezi in unaffected free fall. _Screw it!_ You snapped a kick at the alien’s head as it fell beneath you. It cries out, and the psionic lock vanishes. _Smart, bulgebrain, real SMART!_ You think, screaming and flailing to your de-THWUMP. Wind flew out of you. Trying to regain your breath earns you a mouthful of sandy cloud. Coughing, you scramble off your back, trying to get some footing on the sandy beach. Retching, you hear the alien yell in pain over mad laughter. Eventually your body decides to cooperate, and you turn your vision upwards.

 

Terezi is still latched onto the alien in spite of its attempts to throw her off. A red glow will surrounds her, but she strikes the alien and the psionic hold vanishes. _Either he’s so fucked up he can’t concentrate, or teals are highblood enough that she’s resistant to his level of power._ Red blood drops square in your eye. You fell back down, screaming “AAGH! FUCK, WHY! IS MY DAILY ALLOTMENT OF MISERY AND ABUSE FROM OTHER MULCH MUCNHERS NOT FILLED ENOUGH ALREADY?”

 

Covering the afflicted organ, you look again in time to see Terezi get in one solid smack across her opponent's face. The alien’s facial wear was sent flying, and the psionic froze. You pick up the barely intact sunglasses. “Fucking finally. Sorry alien, that’s a highblood actually being goddamn useful for…” A ray of sunlight reflects off of Terezi’s glasses assaults your uncovered ocular orb. “FUCK! DAMMIT!” Terezi prepares for another blow upon her suddenly unresponsive opponent. A red aura grasped her; unlike the others, it returned the moment she shook it off, glowing brighter each time it was broken until she could no longer resist.

 

The alien levitates her upward, one hand held palm up behind it. It waits until Terezi is aligned diagonally with its posture, holding her like a velocity striking orb. In a single motion it rapidly ascends while bringing its dominant hand down in arc. The spike sends the legislacerator crashing into the sand. You stumble over, finding her weezing in a small crater.

The alien lands not to far away. A trail of blood dribbles from the corner of its mouth. Psionic power tugs the sunglasses out of your grip and into its waiting hand. It moves to reapply them, but pauses. “Well, it looks like you just got,” it slid on the cracked, skewed shades. “served.”

 

            Awkward silence. You groan. “Really? After life or death struggle, you go for a joke. Fuck you. Fuck you, and fuck you too.” You point at Terezi as she struggles upright. She simply flashed a lazy grin, glasses hanging from one ear. “Fuck anyone who thinks humor and intentions magically translate across language barriers. It doesn’t work like that. Tell a joke that actually makes sense to alternians, dumbass, and then I’ll laugh.”

 

            “Aw, for realsies?”

 

            “Yes, for the sake of your stupid, inconsequential alien ‘realsies’”. I will laugh your fucking head off while I strangle you to death with my hatred for all things you.” You growl and jab a finger at him. “Now surrender. And give us our stupid friend back too.”

 

            “Kar, Rezi?” Eridan got out two words before static drowned him out.

 

            “No more private conversations behind my back. We got to communicate in a healthy manner, you dig?” The alien sags in weakness. You step forward, and in a flash it is standing directly in front of you, impassive shades daring you to try something. Fucking perfect, these aliens move as fast as highbloods. “Like I was saying, I'm not putting myself at risk just so you can have a touching reunion. Besides I'm pretty sure getting his mind jacked is the best thing to happen to him in... sweeps? Do you measure time in" he finished with an unknown word.

 

            “Alternian, you hopeless curse upon my existence, use alternian.”

 

            “Alright, calm your bulge sac or whatever. Lets see… dust cleaning equivalent?”

 

            You slowly shake your head and clap. “Brilliance. No words, you broke the linguistic learning curve. Truly an eloquence to remember, until the next time I use the loadgaper.”

 

            “Look, point is, I'm not coming along. I'm here only so that he can say goodbye and hopefully let me sleep tonight,”

 

            You trade glances with Terezi, who seems a little more focused now, and step back to give the alien some room. You wait.

 

            “Tho bye.” In a crimson flash the alien takes off. The radio static receded, and Eridan’s voice assaulted your auricular dishes.

 

“…seriously, I can’t get a vvisiual when its beloww this hole it punched in the ship. Givve me somethin to wwork with here!”

 

            “The alien’s gone, Eridan.” Terezi sighs. She flumps down onto the sand. “He's flown off into the sunset. Oh yeah, Sollux isn't knocked out commander fish breath. He's straight up checked out.”

 

            “It was a he? Swweet, Vvris owes me fifty ceagers. Hang on, wwhat was that about Sol?” You disconnect Eridan. Terezi can handle him for now. You have another call to make. “Assualt team Vantas, respond.” _Please give me some piece of mind before I collapse._

 

            “Captain?” a shaky voice replies. “W-We’re still in the generic room. We’ve landed on some sort of beach.”

 

            “Which one?”

 

            “What?”

 

            “Never mind, it was a dumb-fucked question. Is anyone injured?”

 

            “Just a little surprised. Prisoners are fine too. Some psionic was keeping us from bouncing all over the place. Was it the helmsman?”

 

            “No. Wait for pickup, Metvar.”

 

            “Yes sir!” You disconnect and pick up Eridan again. He’s shouting about something and you have no fucks to give.

 

            “Ship-Captain Ampora, I have a status report.” You cut in.

 

            “Wwhat. Oh!” He drops his voice by an octave. “Eh-hem, deliver your report, Assault-Captain Vvantas.” Behind you Terezi is laughing her ass off. But look! No fucks given.

 

            “My soldiers and the captured aliens are in a metal box-like structure that stayed intact, stranded on some nearby beach. Legislacerator Pyrope and I are trapped on another. Requesting evac as soon as possible, followed by a rest because we are dead fucking tired and in no condition to go through a full debriefing.”

 

            “Ww’ve got most everything under control here, I’ll send out the retrieval immediately.” Eridan’s faux-professionalism cracks. “I have got to tell you about Vvris, you wwon’t believe wwhat happened!”

 

            “Sure I will. It’ll blow me down and screw me sideways. Wake me up in a few hours.” You disconnect from all channels before tearing off you helmet. You let it hang loosely from your fingertips, then let fall to your side. Silently you fall backwards. The sand is cool, and the ocean sounds like the sweetest lullaby right now. You close your eyes.

           

            “He’ll be fine.”

 

            “You’re fucking insane.” You tell her. “Of all the pandead ideas you had, what made you decide going on a warpath was a good idea? You could have killed him!”

 

            “I can smell the future.”

 

            “You told me that’s tinkerbullshit.”

 

            “What’s also tinkerbullshit is how you’re criticizing me for something you did! I recall having to share flight space with one other individual.”

 

            “I was making sure you didn’t try anything too crazy. Should have known it was a wasted effort.”

 

            “Yep! Don’t know why you even bothered tagging along. You got, what, one good kick in Karkat? I drubbed the heck out of the red blooded freak. Whack! Heehee!”

 

            “Hee. Hee.”

 

            “Heh. Besides. I wasn’t going to kill him. I would have stabbed without remorse otherwise.”

 

            “I now feel slightly better about your state of sanity. Meanwhile, retrospect has led me to believe that your assertion made the entire venture pointless and entirely avoidable. What the fuck Terezi.” Terezi growls. When she spoke, it was in a harsher voice.

 

            “I did it because Sollux and his alien friend need to know they can’t play nice. They wasted minutes floating in a cushy psychic bubble, thinking they were safe. Eridan could have shot him down at anytime. One of the Blessed has essentially been abducted by a hostile force. The Empire is not just going to forget this little humiliation. They're going to have to fight, and fight hard. And that means not stopping to say goodbye.” Terezi broke off into a yawn. “Wow, I must be further out of shape than I thought. Ugh. Hey, when I wake up, remind me to make a call.”

 

            “To who?” you ask, but all you get in answer is a loud snore. You opened your eyes. Terezi was on your right, facing your direction. You examine her face. Slowly, quietly, you cock a fist and sock her in the jaw.

 

Vengeance served.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now what, you may ask, took so long between this chapter and the last one? The answer is simple dear readers! Laziness, other projects, laziness, life, laziness and a heaping ton of backstory and mechanics speculation. Trust me, I'm in a much better place to write First Contact and its sequels. Oh, there will be sequels. The story I've quasi-concocted is far too big for one escapade, I'll tell you that much.


	5. Falling Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave starts a culinary show. He recommends that you never mix ketchup and mustard. Trust him, he has personal experience with why two assholes should not be mixed. Society depends on our awareness of this crucial fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* an update on First Contact?!? No WAY!

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --  

TT: Greetings, dear brother.  
TG: don’t hey dear brother me rose im not playing the buttering up game today  
TG: I know what you want to talk about and the answer is fuck no  
TT: I haven’t an inkling of what you are implying. My intent was to inquire of your wellbeing. How has the “punk life” been treating you, Dave? You have been rather evasive lately. So evasive, it’s a wonder you bothered to answer at all.  
TG: i’m fly as a kite, spitting rhymes on the dime all the damn time alright  
TG: got some classy chicks coming up to the crib, gonna turn em back for kicks  
TG: cause i’m to cool for that shit, don’t believe no dang fib  
TT: Illuminating. Is this an affirmation of prosperity or the desperate wheezing of the beached fish?  
TG: go ahead and sass me all day lady  
TG: meanwhile I’ll be swimming in liquid gold once the record labels start coming in  
TG: got a gig tonight and imma bring the whole house down  
TG: turntechgodhead is about to take the whole world by storm baby  
TT: Dave. I’m across the street.  
TG: oh  
TT: Interesting choice of residence. I propose that a cardboard box would provide more utility than a trashcan.  
TG: what do you know maybe im just people watching   
TG: gathering material for my phat lyrics  
TG: this trashcan is my urban cameo  
TT: Oh of course, and that awning is an emergency weather protector. When was the last time you performed in front of an audience?  
TG: two nights ago  
TT: Dave.  
TG: fine two months happy  
TT: Many times in the past I have experienced delight in constantly spearing you at the end of my sharpened wit. This is not one of them.  
TG: how did you find me anyways im too destitute to leave a paper trail  
TT: Our mother works in Intelligence. Need I say more?  
TG: wow you asked for her help  
TG: i thought you two were still at it like two cats silently glaring at each other over a pinch of kibble  
TT: Persuading her proved rather simple. Mother was quite willing to help so long as I was the one who personally contacted you.  
TG: yeah shes probably busy bugging harleys place making sure that girl doesn’t break the economy now that she’s got a whole college campus to run ragged  
TT: While I can appreciate continuing the long legacy of starving artists in the name of your craft, the presented evidence permits me to ask you; is it worth it?  
TG: bringing back an old music form is tough shit okay its not like its going to happen in a decade or two  
TG: first i gotta make my beats part of the new culture for the untouched generations to appreciate before I can make my big break in the music industry  
TG: we’ll throw neo electric classical funk out the window  
TT: First the youth, then the world?  
TG: id say lingerie models but I guess the two objectives aren’t mutually exclusive so sure why not  
TT: There is a more pragmatic alternative.  
TG: i knew it look i get that a cushy intelligence job would be nice and convenient   
TG: and probably smell a lot better  
TG: but I have a rappers mind and soul cant turn my back on my calling yo  
TT: I understand the urge to carve your own path, regardless of your guardian’s wishes. However,steady employment would provide room and board to get yourself grounded. A paycheck from Intelligence is nothing to sneeze at. Cruise along with it for a few years. Retire when you feel more prepared or the harshness of the world. Becoming a rapper and an Intelligence officer are not mutually exclusive goals, you know.  
TG: stop using my words you plagiarist  
TT: How can I, when you give me such applicable ammunition?  
TG: why don’t you take up bros offer then hes clearly talked to you about it  
TT: Mother’s feigned concern for our wellbeing has its upsides. Besides, my book has garnered favorable reception. I shan’t be hard pressed for funds of my own. Our older relative is aware of this and did not think to recommend me the position. Instead, he wanted me to find you and make sure you were well after you dropped contact the moment he brought it up.  
TG: what's the verdict judge judy  
TT: I will report you as adequate.  
TG: awesome thanks  
TT: Once you promise to reconsider.  
TG: what no if  
TT: An if would imply that I might wish to entertain other responses. A true negotiator knows when her prey is well and truly cornered. What do you plea, defendant?  
TG: afghagedknf fine

+++++

You are Dave Strider, and your life is a weird mix of terrible and awesome at the moment. On one hand, you now have superpowers. Technically they belong to a certain asshole who as been contributing heavily to the awful category ever since he broke into your head like a obsessed stalker breaking and entering to take incriminating photos of their favorite idol.next time we see your psychotic ash bait should present my rear for total ass kicking or start with some sweet talk to really get her murder on.

ii wiill make you break your own 2piine. The term ii2 “a2h mate”, and iit doe2n’t apply two our relatiion2hiip.

we basically got done with the most painful four way of all time. how is that not a bash hate?

that'2 not even. the a2hen quadrant ii2 three people not four! ii'm not going two explain the2e thing2 two you iif you iin2ii2t on being a dumba22. 

tch, kids stuff, step up into the big leagues little man. i bet you still wear tighty whities. your cash-make disappoints the love master Strider, young mustard seed.

iit2 a2h mate! au2pii2tiicii2m ii2 a platoniic quadrant, not whatever you're iimplying, 2o 2top talkiing 2hiit about what you don’t under2tand.

there you go about quadrant again, is four square your national sport or something?

akcnoiiqvobtbiiriil.

i didn’t even know making that sound was possible, mustard. Good going you model pioneer of… verbal… communication. dammit that doesn’t really work. You hadn’t meant to let him hear that. Thoughts kept slipping between you two without permission.

plea2e 2top talkiing. Let2 try two fiind our2elve2 a place two lay low. 2omeone kiill thii2 guy and end my torment. You feel chagrin at the corner of your mind. Apparently mustard can’t keep everything private either,

way I see it that whole fiasco was basically your fault. hey dude lets stick around the hell ship we escaped from thanks to an accidental mind transplant good thinking head buddy.

ii had two. there ii2 a liittle somethiing called friiend2. try makiing 2ome.

i got bros dude so don’t worry about me. what kind of friend beats you up and lasers you in the face?

the kiind that exii2t- wow, ii2 thii2 what dayliight look2 two diiurnal creature2? 2till obnoxiious a2 fuck, but it2 not that bad iif you avoiid lookiing diirectly at anythiing.

You remove your sunglasses.

change iit back! change iit back!

You don your shades, repressing a smirk. welcome to Lolar bucko. nothing but piles of sand over oceans of carebear vomit.

what’2 a carebear? 2ome kiind of hiideou2 creature?A memory, one of many spent browsing ancient memorabilia crosses into his consciousness from yours. Mustard hisses. iit ii2 wor2e than ii could have po22iibly iimagiined.

they sing too. Another memory passes through. 

what? Mustard’s imagination runs wild. 2top makiing iit wor2e!

In the corner of your eye, you spot something odd. Slowing down, you ask: you wanted to take a break right?

FUCK ye2! iif you 2topped dii2tractiing me maybe you- 

i found a place for us to stop. You give mustard a good view. It’s another beach/island, big surprise, but larger, with a big purple spire built on it. The building is leaning heavily to left, obviously at odds with how it was designed. 

you call that a re2t 2top? Mustard scoffs.

no I call it a prime tourist spot with a little shade on the side.

iit look2 liike iit2 2iinkiing iinto the 2and. clearly un2table.

blame the job market. stability costs extra, and people are cutting corners in construction these days.

thank2 for the iintel aliien, now the empiire know2 what fuckiing pathetiic archiitect2 your 2pecie2 make for.

Find the man what he wants, and this is the thanks he gives you? Time to stop pulling your punches. didn’t they turn you into a glorified car battery.

ii-

a car is vehicle by the way, in case the subtext wasn’t clear. like the subtext that your friends are part of this empire that exploited you like fossil fuel.

… ju2t take u2 two the damn ii2land already. He whispers. 

Huh, you were expecting a stronger response. Moving on, you put the pedal to the medal and accelerate. 

2low down.

first rule of human culture never try to drive shotgun. we’re fine.

would you stop thiinkiing with your bulge for one 2econd and 2low down!

You reconsider. slow down. that goes like this, right? Psychic force punches you square in the face. little help?

eheheheh, clo2e. puttiing power iin front of your2elf wiithout projectiing iit at the 2ame rate a2 your speed ii2 a common rookie mii2take, 2o don't feel two pathetiic. you have to push back wiith the energy that’2 already there.

so like this then-  To your horror the aura peels off and takes a detour right the fuck backwards. You retain momentum, but gravity begins to apply its unrelenting pull. Time slows to a crawl. uh, yellow guy? i need a refill ASAP.

thii2 would be a lot ea2iier iif you let me piilot.

falling.

iit2 ju2t water. You show him clips of reports regarding Lolar’s marine life forms. HOLY FUCK. fiine, one heapiing of awe2ome coming up. hm. You feel mustard freeze. Not feeling any changes, you hold out your hand. Small red sparks dance along the fingers, but that’s it. Beyond the appendage, Lolar’s ocean creeps closer. we're out. 

“What?” you scream aloud. "How do you run out of psychic powers?" Cold fear is your only answer. The sea gets closer, and before you can recall the human threshold for fatal velocity water is skimming along your underside. FWUMP. Everything goes dark. 

aliien?

You can’t move. If you move, the illusion will be broken and you’ll still be falling to your death.red? we made iit. 2hiit. you could be dead, how would ii know? Slowly, wanting to believe, you lift your head. Sand streams down your face. oh. oh good, ii"m not trapped in a corp2e agaiin. You close your eyes and wait for it to pass. Finally, you crack open one eyelid. More sand. Looking backwards, you see the trail from where you hit the beach. Your chin feels raw and wet. When you examine it, your hand comes away with more than salt water.eugh. can’t you keep that 2hiit iin your body where iit belong2? You keep silent, savoring the sensation.2orry. that was iin2en2iitiive. 2orry. 2hiit. diid we- diid you break anythiing? Nothing feels broken, just bruised.ii hate gettiing feedback from a 2econd party. fiirst le22on, we have lag ii22ue2. 

“Name.” You gasp, trying to stand. You collect yourself. Be cool. tell me your name. 

Sollux. 

He sounds nervous. In fairness, adrenaline is pumping through you like crazy, and you might be just a tad pissed, but you’re not sure what you could do to hurt him in his current state. Not talk to him, maybe? You reply once you get your legs under you. dave. no lisp?

iif there ii2 going to be one word ii can 2ay normally, iit’2 going to be my own damn name.

now that introductions are out of the way, we need to get our shit together. we’re stuck like this, and i know that sucks but we nearly died. twice. You walk as you talk. Think. Moving is getting easier. you ever, you fish for common ground. you ever play games? 

Smugness nearly chokes your brain. kneel before your kiing, biitch.

that’s great, nerd. you know that lag you were talking about? thats pretty fatal in games. guess what dick cheese our wireless is down and the power company is out fixing something useful, so we gotta take care of this ourselves. we need to touch base, figure out our limits, and our enemys.  You recall the three other aliens you’re familiar with. hook, nubs and points.

and eriidan. 

laser fish? 

ehehehe, that work2 two. 

The spire is only a few feet away. The square entrance is dark yet inviting. cool. we’ll talk in a second. right now, i need to sleep this day off like a bad bad baaaad hangover.

2leep. He ponders the word, turning it over in his head. You really aren't sure why you can see, or think, him doing that. yeah, ii could go for 2ome 2leep. ii miiss 2leep.

Your eyebrows raise to high heaven. you’re an insomniac? see this is why you shouldn’t get into video games they won’t let quit. shit sucks you in like a depressed copper with diagnosed bulimia in a doughnut shop.

what.

never mind.  You step awkwardly through the slanted portal. There’s no floor. Caught between moving the other foot and leaning from the drop, you fall through. Your head bangs against the entryway. The angled wall sends you sliding towards impenetrable darkness bellow. so, psychic powers. They recharged?  Crimson energy slows you down to a comfortable pace, too weak to do anything else. Light vanishes in the depths of the spire.well shit, lets go spelunking.

hold up. The psionics glow, illuminating your descent. 

fucking sweet, now we can see whatever fresh hell awaits us. 

we’ll see whatever’2 comiing before iit can pull 2hiit.

unless it’s an unspeakable horror that drives mortals made by sight. this planets almost entirely ocean. move over rl’yeh, cthulhus got a new crib to chill in. 

your voice ii2 an un2peakable horror that driive2 men mad. the day ii under2tand the shiit you 2pew ii2 the day I abandon my 2aniity. 

speak not ill of what you no understand, yellow fool of a thousand virgin nerds. Sollux grumbles something unintelligible. Several seconds pass with no sign of a stopping point. so since we’re falling nowhere fast. points. she your girlfriend yes/no. The psionics vanish, plunging you in darkness. bad topic got it. how bout nubs? Sollux sends you an image of someone vomiting into a bucket. kinky shit you got there. that turn you on pal? okay please stop screaming that actually kind hurts and I’m technically not even hearing it so seriously what the hell. ill shut up if you turn the lights back on and turn your voice off. 

Sollux complied, and he could not have had better timing; the floor was coming up fast. You barely managed to get your feet under you before impact. They caught you smoothly, but your knees were unprepared and buckled. Not falling so much as tilting downward, face met stone with a crunch. Your abused nose had finally caved under the relatively light blow. 

ow.

can you move? iif we’re going two diie ii’d liike two say ii 2aw iit comiing. 

Getting your feet, you scan the area. Nothing. It’s an empty square room. No exits. You sit, leaning against the wall. no threats detected ensign, lets go on break for the next twenty-four hours. we’re not getting out of here until you recharge anyways.

2ee you tomorrow niight.

dumb alien concepts aside, theres’ no night here.

are you fuckiing kiiddiing me?

yep. lolar, the planet that never sleeps where there’s nothing to do. 

doe2 thii2 planet have a per2onal vendetta agaiin2t my speciie2? thii2 ii2 our hell. 

so? you’re rocking a human bod now son. 

that… actually, that ii2 kiind of perfect. He performs the mental equivalent of yawning, and you suddenly you feel tired. You can’t even remember the last time your entire being felt so exhausted. 

appreciate humans later, sleep now. Sollux extinguishes the light. All sensation of his presence vanishes. You’re thankful for that; it would be some weird shit to feel him sleeping inside your head. It’s not long till you drop out of consciousness as well. 

+++++ 

God knows how long later, you wake up with a jolt. There’s a buzzing over your heart. You scramble to get your Intelligence coat off, thinking of alien heart worms or remotely controlled pace makers, or even a simple bomb. Hook knocked you out for a good long while; who knows what they could have done to you. 

The coat is unbuttoned. You move to take it off, and the buzzing vanishes. You put one hand over your heart, then slowly move it to the inner breast pocket of your uniform. You pull out something fleshy and rectangular, other details hidden by the lack of light. 

hey a22hat, ii could feel you paniickiing all the way iin my corner of your brain. cut iit out! 

sollux turn on the lights for a second. He complies. The object is rectangular, as you thought, and thin. Most of it is covered in squishy purple material. Flipping it over, you see a dark glass screen on the other side. this is one of yours, isn’t it?

yeah. Sollux confirms, puzzled. where’d you get a rectangular per2onal communiicatiion2 device? 

so this is a phone then? The phone buzzes again. The screen lights up with teal light and red alien letters. Sollux makes a strangled sort of sound, and accidentally lets a connection slip. Between that and the color scheme, you know who’s calling before you accept it. 

“Hello worthless trolloid! I hope you are doing well! It’s your favorite alien overlord, Terezi Pyro--“ You hang up. 

later?

later.

how do you turn these off? 

button on the 2iide. 

You press down until the phone makes a gurgling sound. when did she get it on me?

que2tiioniing how or why TZ doe2 thiing2 ii2 a futiile practiice ii gave up 2weep2 ago. 

works for me. back to sleep.

goodday.

night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look at that this chapter had a point after all ahahahahaha. Typing quirks is so exhausting.  
> As always, please point out any serious errors in my quirking.


	6. Plotting the Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sollux and Dave take up Terezi's invitation. What does the schemer hide behind her l33t discourse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story progression yaaaaaay.

     You forgot about the nightmares.

     Floundering about in total darkness, you grapple with an opponent magnitudes stronger than yourself. It forces you down, uncountable limbs curling around your own. Bones crack as they squeeze. You yell and try to force them off, but you can hardly move under its weight. You throw your head forward, hoping to gore the beast on your horns. Pain explodes across your forehead when you hit something hard. What was that, a comet? The beast roars from directly in front of you. Warmth slides down your face. Oh, you hit its teeth, didn’t you? The beast pulls you in every direction. Surprisingly, the agony begins to lessen. There is a sensation of being pulled away, leaving your body to be torn apart. The beast yowls happily. Teeth tears into meat. Gradually, the sounds of feasting vanish.

     Tiny points of color flash from far away. They come closer, or maybe you float closer to them, who knows, and you begin to make out details. Infantile trolls, their chubby faces attached to maggot like bodies the same color as their blood. A familiar biclops swims among the grubs, petting and cooing at each one in turn. They do not respond. You think they are dead, until you notice that their eyes are trained upon you. As you leave them behind, the biclops gives up. Now he watches you, motionless aside from the invisible tide that pushes him along. Farther and farther and farther they go. Finally, they vanish completely.

_Oh my fucking god please wake up I can’t take this anymore._

     Dave’s words shatter the dream. You wake up, still in the spire. Sunlight spills into the structure, so you can see now at least. _You thtopped talking in red._

 _No I_ didn’t. _What’re you doing in there? Felt like nails were digging into my scalp._

 _I had a nightmare. Lookth like you decided to tag along. Conthider it my downpayment on your pathetic alien carcath._ All things considered, you consider yourself lucky for a troll who went to sleep without soper slime. Sucks that getting a body transplant didn’t rid you of the nightterrors lurking in you’re species’ subconscious.

_That was not a nightmare. Nightmares make you shiver and piss on the sheets. They do not stick your brain in a blender and set it on high velocity._

_Thtop whining. I wath the one who had to thuffer through it firththand._

_You could have mentioned this asshole fusion came packaged with spurts of red hot pain like some kind of malicious sentient hangover. Hurts worse than that time hook clocked me._

_You are thutch a whiny bitcth._

_Insensitive douchebag._

_Nook sucker._

_Dickish condiment flinger._

_Uh what?_

_You talk in mustard and are a generally terrible person. That is the joke._

_Do humanth actually inthult people with culinary refrentheth?_

_Yeah man whole wars start over that shit. One day the duke of dinner called the surveyor of snacktopia a ketchup licker and pretty soon all the nations got entangled in the biggest, sweatiest lunchroom brawl mankind has ever seen._

     Does he seriously think you’d believe this garbage? _Thatth ridiculouth. I’m not even going to dignify the notion that any civilization that thoundth ath dumb ath yourth could actually exitht._ Despite your well placed disbelief Dave prattles on, getting more and more worked up.

_Cooks on either side were stretched to the brim with all the orders coming so they had to serve their dishes practically raw. I’m talking uncut peppers, half seasoned lettuce and barely buttered potatoes. Lightly singed porkers flew through the air, squealing their tiny piggy hearts out past the apple gag. When they finally ran out of fresh stuff they rang up the Mcbonalds and Burger Queens and basically unleashed fast food armageddon._

     You don’t believe him. _…what happened next?_

_World hunger._

_Damn._

_It was about as brutal as the poker wars but not as rough as the sportsapocalpyse._

     You are 99% positive that he is joking with you. But you aren’t taking chances with the race that invented the carebears. _If you're one flipping your theedflap, whatth the plan? I thay we contact TZ._

_Are your super dependable psychic powers charged yet?_

_I am thorry my AWETHOME powerth have a rightful averthion to the human thinkpan, GET OFF MY CATHE._ You use said AWESOME POWERS to lift Dave up to the entryway. It feels uncomfortable. During your time as helmsman you at least felt the coursing power run through you into the ship. From deep in Dave’s mind all you get is a buzzing tingle. Is it because you’re sharing a thinkpan with someone? All you know for certain is that while you retain your powers, they are greatly diminished.

     While you are deep in thought Dave takes the psionic reins and nudges himself out of the tower. That’s another thing you don’t like; the human can use your psionics without permission. He could probably conjure them on his own if he knew how. You do not plan on telling him. The power imbalance between you two is wide enough as is. _Happy?_

_I hearby promote you to regular old mustard flinger. Wait you’re losing a title so I’m demoting you, fuck._

_Ehehehe. Letht call TZ._ Terezi would never sell you out, but she is a legsilacerator and you convicted felon, on top of being an integral part of the empire’s propawarganda machine. Even so, you do not desire to be stuck with Dave forever, and if there’s any hope of getting back in your body it is the  _Paninator_ ’s mindmeld apparatus. The first thing you are going to do when you get back in your own head is vaporize whoever designed the Translation system, and then Eridan for installing it.

_Nah._

Your blood runs cold. That is to say, your thoughts stop short and get all jumbled up. Half of them hit the breaks while the others all accelerated because of the big OH FUCK coming up behind them. _Two secondth to explain your thit, Dave, and then I decided if we’re playing with the fitheth after all._

_Dude, this move is classic. The friendly nemesis hooks you in with some loose association and bogus sympathy. Then at the end she tips her hand, flips some tables and chops off one of your limbs. The audience goes all oh snap at this criminal offense, and then we gotta spend a whole sequel thwarting her evil plans._

_One._

_Its probably rigged with a tracking device and we should toss it asap. I would have done it last night but I needed to catch some z's after that clusterfuck._

_TZ wouldn’t do that. Turn uth in, anywayth. That wouldn’t be any fun for her. Even with her weird precognitive powers she still loves to play her mindgames. Two._

_Back up a second. Your girlfriend can see the future?_

_Not exactly - wait, you did it again._

_What._

_You mithcontrued our relationship. I’ve told you two billion timeth now we DON’T WORK LIKE THAT._

_Ok._

     If you had eyes they’d be narrowed. _Really._

_Yep. Point’s isn’t your girlfriend. Clear as day._

_No, theriouthyl, tthe ithn’t. Itth inconciavable for a troll to enter a quadrant with we me when I’ve been therving ath thtarthip hardware._

_Quad… I can’t even form the energy to care about that junk. Let’s talk about something else. Why do you think contacting Terezi is such a good idea? She smacked us around like a wrecking ball even thought she knew you were lounging around my braincase._

_Because._ You hesitate. This is going to sound so fucking corny: _Because the’th my friend. I trutht her._

     It doesn’t convince him, obviously. You feel Dave’s skepticism, skimming under the dim awareness you have of him at all times. He thinks you don’t know about the human colony on this planet; the guy lets more thoughts slip through than he’d like. If he gets to them, and if they have a way offworld, you’re fucked. You’ll be stuck in his mind until he reaches the end of his lifespan, and in the meantime? You’ll be forced to fight your own kind, and as much as you hate the empire at least you have friends there. Well, maybe not friends, more like people who can stand you. Stand next to you. And seriously, what chance do these weird monkey people stand against intergalactic warmongers? None.

     You mentally prepare yourself, the only kind of preparing you can perform in this state. It’s time to see if you can seize total control of Dave’s body. He’s got he homecourt advantage, or some such bullshit, but you have experience. Translation let you sift through the minds of a dozen different species. Now your intrusive snooping is about to pay dividends. There will be a chink in Dave’s defensives when he starts forming a response. That’ll be your cue.

     While you’re waiting for Dave’s concentration to slip, you start thinking up some one liners to really twist the knife. Maybe you thhould… reconsider? No. I gueth we are in… two mindth? Not relevant. Let me change your mind? Eeeh, that one’s decent. The moment comes; Dave is about to answer! Do or die! You rise up, one liner on your imaginary lips!

_Fine._

     Uh. What did he say? All of Dave’s skepticism is gone, replaced with sincerity. Why? Did he notice the attack and switch tracts as a disarming technique? Is it a trap? _What changed your mind?_

 _Nothing, I was just messing with you dude._ That insufferable-! _Hey, how do you turn this piece of shit on again?_

+++++

     You wish that this mental osmosis going on between you and Sollux wasn’t a two way street, but it does have its uses. Especially when he’s under duress and you're chilling like an iceberg. All you had to do was apply a little pressure. Sifting through all the emotions coming off him was tough, but it gave you a better idea of Terezi Pyrope from Sollux’s perspective. You don’t know what Terezi did to deserve it, but this guy would trust her with his life exactly half of the time. Dude’s weird like that.

     Closing the deal, however, is the sinking realization that Terezi allowed you to escape. If she wanted you dead she’d have pulled out something more lethal than a blunt cane and snark. She let you leave, and snuck a communicator on your person. Upsetting Pyrope could be fatal in the long run. So yeah, you’ll make the call.

     Terezi answers with a huff. “Smooth moves Mr. Alien. Hanging up on a girl without even excusing yourself first.”

     “Go ahead and take the hypocritical high ground. Who has so much trouble getting a date that they have to reverse pickpocket their number on some dude? Scratchy sounding law enforcers with criminally useless eyewear that’s who.”

     “I’m going to let that slide. We got off on the wrong foot earlier so I’m handing you an peace frond, Mr. Alien.”

     is she serious?

     tz ii2 never seriiou2, until 2he tiighten2 the noo2e

     “Already told you, mustard doesn’t want to go home. He’s part of the rhythm master ninja clan now. Adoption papers already filled out.” You’re not going to be the first to tip their hand. She wants something, so she’ll have to ask for it. Sollux is getting impatient, but he can wait.

     “I’m curious cool guy, how susceptible is your race to having a sword run through their throat? I haven't bothered finding out out. Yet.”

     Okay well fuck that strategy you forgot Pyrope’s a lunatic. “Fine what’d you want to talk about?”

     “I want the same thing you want cool guy! I want you off this delicious planet.”

     2ee?

     hold your horses man we don’t know her terms yet. “What do you want in return?”

     “You have to take Sollux with you.” Well shit. You hoped that he’d be an excellent bargaining chip for the lives of the Colombus crew if it came down to it. Now you’ll have to contact someone else if you want to arrange such a deal. What a hassle.

     You shudder as Sollux seizes control for a second. “TZ are you theriouthly thending me off to live with thith guy? He’th already driving me inthane. I can’t take a whole lifetime of thith douchebag.”

     “Hello Sollux!” Terezi sounds sickeningly more cheerful. “I thought you’d appreciate a vacation from having to push a ship around at light speed.”

     holy shit is she serious? you ask. you can travel at lightspeed? why weren’t we traveling at lightspeed? have you been holding out on me bro?

     iit’2 not 2iimply liigth2peed. we’d never conquer anyone if we traveled that 2lowly. ii can’t do that wiithout a helm2man riig and 2hiip anywa2th. diid you think II wired my2elf up for kiick2? what diid you think my job wa2?

     automatic insult dispenser. 7/10 would bicker with again.

     blegh, you wii2h. 2orry but piink aliien2 aren’t my type. You… you aren’t sure how he interpreted that. Some quadrants bullshit.

     “Ah-HEM.” Terezi coughs. Loudly. “Will one of you get off your ass and continue this discussion? I can’t guarantee the privacy of this conversation forever.”

     dude, let me talk for now, until we get some more information.

     don’t 2crew iit up. Sollux acquiesces command.

     “Lets pretend that this is a world where I’m completely braindead and also believe you. What have you got planned and what’s the catch because there’s always a catch.”

     “What does your blood taste like?” Terezi asks hungrily.

     “That’s not a answer. Unless that’s the catch, that I have to slice my neck open for some aztechian alien sacrifice.”

     “Hehehehe, kidding! I already know what it tastes like.” Did she just imply… no.

     “If you killed any of them then you can kiss this conversation goodbye.” Sollux hisses. He can stuff it.

     “Whoa, coolguy! What happened to that frosty shell of yours? I did not harm any of your wimpy friends. I caught a whiff of your captain’s blood. Dry and mixed with carpet, but I’ll have to be satisfied with that for now. No, what I want to know is: what’s your name?”

     “Lucy Lou.”

     “BZZZZZT! WRONG!” She yells in your ear. “I know a lie when I smell it! Tell me your name or I’ll make one up for you."

     ju2t tell her. iit iit2n’t liike iit matter2.

     “Dave. There, never say I’m inconsiderate.”

     “Hmm.” She honest to god starts stiffing the phone. “Smells like the truth! Listen up Dave! Here’s the story: Thanks to you and Sollux being a pair of grubfisted wigglers, our ship is damaged and low on power. But not for long, as we have set up a hailing beacon. The nearest allied ship will respond and arrive within roughly forty eight hours to assist us. I can personally assure you that it’s commander will gladly smuggle you offworld and give you personal vessel to travel to any destination of your choosing.”

     asking for an insider’s opinion here. is she telling the truth?

     how 2hould I know? I got whii2ked away to thii2 magiical land of awfulne22 on the back of your magiical teleporting box. there could be a thou2and empiire 2hiip2 nearby for all I know. tz’th u2ually right about thii2 kiind of 2tuff, even wiithout her weiird prophecy power2.

     still expecting some dirt on those.

     “AH HEM.”  
.  
     be right back. “Sounds pretty tight. Will the escape vessel be rigged to explode, or play nothing but country music?” my money’s on a tracking device. maybe you can take care of that, you’ve practically been a ship for you’re entire adult life. that is fucked up by the way.

     would that be a prevaiiliing viiew of the 2ubject among your race?

     i think even the internet would find that shit all kinds of fucked up.

     there’2 hope for your kiind yet.

     “How do you know there will be a ship?” you continue. “What kind of irresponsible piece of shit lets a kidnapper stow away on their vessel? Not one I’d like to sail with.”

     “Please, Dave, I have my sources. Believe me, she will be all to willing to let you aboard once I let her in on the juicy details of your relationship with our former helmsman.”

     “So you’re going to lie to her face.”

     “I may exaggerate a few details to make you two seem more appealing.”

     You can hear gears turning in Sollux’s section of your brain. a2k her iif iit2 nepeta’2 2hiip.

     “Sollux wants to know if it’s Nepeta’s ship.”

     “Yes. Two points for appleberry blast!” Sollux groans. “I have all the angles planned out Dave. You two will be off this planet before anyone can suspect a thing. You, Sollux and I, we will leave them all befuddled with our masterful duplicity.”

     It’s a convenient plan, but it leaves the little issue of an entire research team left in grey hostile alien hands, and Sollux stays trapped behind your cranium for the conceivable future. You like being able to fly and throw rubble around with your mind, but having to guard your every thought is growing old fast.

     “Now, there is just one little problem.”

     “Just one?”

     “There is nothing I can do to stop Eridan from looking for you. I will be forced to hunt you down with all of my cunning. And unlike our last little spat, I don’t plan on pulling any punches. I have a reputation to maintain!”

     “I can hide from you clowns for years, it won’t be an issue.”

     “Hehehe! I wouldn’t be so sure. I will try to keep you posted so you won’t have to spend your every waking moment in fear, but I’m going to be counting on your slick moves and Sollux’s tasty powers to stay ahead of us. Be careful not to over use those by the way. The trail it leaves is so delicious, I simply can’t help but follow it!”

     “C’mon, can’t you pretend it goes in the opposite direction for a few hours?”

     “Dave, are you suggesting that I sully myself by playing into the dumb blind girl stereotype? What if I accused you of being a typical hornless alien?”

     “I don’t know, what does a typical hornless alien do according to your culture?”

     “Generally they spend all day smelling terrible and picking at their cartilidge nubs.”

     “See that's hella inaccurate. We call it spring cleaning.”

     “Gross. I’ll give you more instructions once your getaway ship has landed. Sound acceptable? It’s not like this is a binding agreement, you can refuse my awesome deal later if you decide to engage each other in ungrateful imbecilic matrimony.”

     Better to keep an escape route available than to close it forever. “I guess I can keep it in mind.”

     can I talk to her? You think he will attempt mutiny again if you refuse. Besides, the growing turmoil he’s giving off is making you stomach twist into knots. You relinquish control.

     “TZ, you’re the prophet here. Am I ever getting my body back?”

     Terezi says nothing. When she speaks, her tone is sad. “I don’t think so. I can’t sense that far ahead, but we both know that would be pointless suicide. Worst case the empire turns you both into a helmsman. Most likely, you’d be killed.”

     “Well, yeah, I’ve got a fucking pan TZ. I know that. But I altho know that if I thtay with thith nonthtop theedflapper – theriouthly, I mith KK right now.” Terezi cackles.

     i can’t even be insulted because your vernacular is so godawful. ~~~~

     2hut the fuck up for a minute. “If I escape, I’m going to be fighting you guyth someday. And I really don’t want to do that.”

     “Really Sollux? You’d give up your freedom because it would mean having to hurt sweet, precious Eridan and poor, innocent Vriska? What is this strange reversal? Did they catch your heart and spades, or was it diamonds at first sight?”

     “Okay, thothe two can thuck my bone bulge. And Equiuth too, I gueth. Not that I could much to him anywayth.”

     “No, I suppose he’d just flatten you into a sad, tasty flour circle with mustardy syrup.”

     “Yeth exactly. Wait, no fucking why that could happen, I can fly.”

     “He has a jumping height of several miles.” There are aliens that can do that? Psychic powers are bad enough.

     “Point ith I don’t want to fight motht of you. Can’t I jutht transfer back into my old body and serve as a regular Blessed inthtead of a helmthman?” Interesting. Sollux belongs to some special kids cult. Now you have to find out what makes him so special. It can't be that he's a psionic, because there's other "helmsman" with the same attribute. 

     You retake control. “Let me set the record straight here. First off, that is risky as fuck.”

     “Yes.” Terezi agrees. “Eridan has taken your escape as a serious challenge to his abilities as a commander, to the point of black concupiscence. It is unlikely he will permit you the opportunity to reclaim your body even if you surrender. He wants you in chains or in a corpse box.”

     “What she said. Second, I’m not going to chance getting trapped in your body. Your body sucks. Hell, your whole life sucks.”

     “Thorry if I don’t want to turn againtht my entire specieth tho I can help thome primitive alienth and get killed anywayth!" Sollux yells. "What about Nepeta’th thip? She wouldn't have an issue letting uth uthe her tech.”

    “That's not an option either.” Terezi mutters. “You remember when Eridan had the Translation technology installed it was this big surprise? Super useful technology that for some reason none of us had heard of before?”

     “Yeah, tho?”

     “I’ve been looking into it. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed under his command for so long. The project it came from was decommissioned sweeps ago. Eridan got his hands on literally the last model in existence. You know how he loves customizing the _Paninator,_ he couldn't resist.”

     Another good thing to know; only the  _Paninator_ has mind reading technology. Your paranoia is dealt a solid blow. 

     “Ehehehe, yeah. That thip could blatht open a dreadnought. I’m almotht thad I can’t take her with me. Tho, we can’t zap ourthelveth back to normal.” He sighs, resigned.

     “Fuck, I’m going to be stuck with you forever?” 

     “Oh noooo, the cool kid has to share his mind with the computer whiz who can give him super powers, how tragic!” Terezi wails.

     “Thut up Dave, you came out on top here.”

     “Buddy, I’m always on top, don’t even question that it’s a fact of life. I’m taking my mouth back, you aren’t worthy to man that sucker if you can’t recognize the Strider swag.”

     “I’m not done with it yet.”

     “Oh lalaa! I think I might have to lay down.”

     “Shut up Terezi.”

     “Thut up TZ. Fuck!”

     “What’d I tell you dude? Always on top.”

     “God, jutht. Fuck.” Sollux composes himself before beginning again. God, huh. Some things really are universal. Wonder what the hell these guys worship, it probably has a bazillion teeth and never stops screaming. “We’ll wait around for Nepeta like the uthleth fuckth we are then. Not like there’th any other way off this planet.”

     “Excellent. I’ll keep in touch, Sollux. Wait for me to call you, we’ll avoid more awkward inquiries that way. Stay safe, and play nice with your new best friend.”

     “Thee you, TZ.”

     “I’m blind, dummy. Bye cool guy!” She hangs up.

     You deposit the phone back in your coat. It’s time to present an alternative. “So, that’s option A.”

     “Option B ith the colonitht.” There goes your control over this conversation. Flying away to burn in the suns like a piece of shit.

     “Sorry, but I’m obligated to warn them when a shipload of angry aliens lands on their planet. It sort of ruins their peaceful, happy lives for some dumb reason. We can hitch a ride on their evacuation vessel to the nearest settlement and get out of her without playing cops and robbers with your pals.”

     “Where you then radio for reinforcementth and kill every troll on Lolar.”Sollux growls. “I’m not flying you over there tho that can happen.”

     “Your friends will be getting help within 48 hours. It’ll take weeks to get the next colony or contact anyone. They’ll be out of here before you know it.”

     “I’m suppouthed to believe that at face value?”

     “Sure. I’ll ask some of the colonists myself, without them knowing a cranky jackass they might be tempted to lie to is listening in.”

     Sollux considers a moment before answering. “We’ll go. But if you’re wrong, or try telling them anything before I thay tho, I’m blowing our head up.”

     “Cool beans. Now stop talking with my mouth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expositions, explanations and entanglements, oh my! Can you guess who we'll be peeking in on next?


	7. Authorial Escapades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes exile is a release. Sometimes, you go from the pan into the multicolored fluid filled with unspeakable horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Daaaaaaaave. Talkin bout stuff.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --   

TG: whats this i hear about you exiling yourself to spaces nether regions

TT: I’m afraid I cannot divulge much. Space and I enjoy a closed relationship. I would be overstepping numerous boundaries in describing their genitalia. How have you been Dave? You haven’t been answering my messages for months. I’m actually surprised you know about your exodus.

TG: as a kickass superspy i have important shit to do and uncountable sources of intelligence

TG: they basically make me omniscient not to mention completely irresistible

TT: Really now? Many a time you have ascribed to me the trait of “stuffy overbearing know-it-all”. Perhaps you have mistaken your insufferable prying as something endearing?

TG: have you never seen a james bond movie

TG: constantly plowing the fields of sexual conquest is like a required secondary power for secret agent

TT: Can we drop this topic? I want to make a deduction.                                                                                   

TG: shoot holmes                                                                                                                                               

TT: Thank you Wattson. Did mother inform you of my vacation?                                                                           

TG: well yeah i was getting to that

TG: shes worried youre mad at her or whatever                                                                                         

TT: And she went crying to you, prompting you to check up on me for her. How clever of her.                           

TT: How was mother able to contact you? Have I been the only one kept in the dark about your activities?       

TG: what no

TG: look ive been out of contact for security reasons                                                                          

TT: You had time to fraternize with the Harleyberts, as John finally informed me. I have barely been able to get ahold of them either. Care to comment?                                                                                                                                                                       

TG: rose there isn’t some secret party you’ve been excluded from                                                                    

TG: mom works in intelligence doesnt take a fucking leap off of mount logic to figure that one out

TG: and talkin up john and jade is my mission                                                                                                

TT: I apologize for the insinuation that I was bitter. If anything I’m jealous, and maybe a bit lonely. All of my friends simultaneously stopped talking to me. It was distressing.                                                                                                                       

TG: cause you’ve never dropped off the face of the earth for weeks at a time                                                  

TG: so you float your shit and decided to go to water world where the ocean is toxic slime and everything is either a freaky sea monster or cultist.

TG: sorry i couldnt bless you with my righteous shades of fraternal companionship i guess                           

TT: Questionably sincere apology accepted. Your assessment of Lolar requires some revision. Only one native species can be accurately described as a leviathan. The residents aren’t cultists either. Cultists hide from the public eye. They hide no more than necessary.

TG: they might seem nice at first but the moment you let your guard down theyll hit you with the full innsmouth treatment    

TG: creepy fishman breathing down your neck, trying to resurrect some ancient oceanic horror that can’t decide what animal it is

TG: wrong sucker it’s a reverse octopustaur with wings                                                                                     

TT: Pardon me for interrupting yet another delectable train of thought. Are you spying on our friends?             

TG: no bugging their shit and peering at them through binoculars is part of my love ritual to awaken a hibernating sex drive   

TG: can you guess which one im going to mate with                                                                                       

TT: Mr. Egbert. I propose that his baking hobby and inherent daddy kink leaves you screaming for more.         

TG: damn spot on sherlock youre on fire today                                                                                                 

TG: anyways its for there own good                                                                                                                   

TT: The sanctity of personal privacy violated for the greater good! I’m sure I can find plenty of positive examples where this policy was adopted. Care to give me a real reason?

TG: aight

TT: Oh? I was expecting some more bargaining for this classified information.

TG: well it is classified 

TG: but its about J and J so why not

TG: first you have to tell me why you want to go to water world

TT: There's the bartering. In plain terms,I need a vacation. The media spotlight is chocking the air I breathe, keeping me on edge at all times. I can’t write with all this attention, so I’m leaving the grid for a while. Lolar is far from the public eye, and recently the colonists been offering several months of food and board at the right price. An agreement was reached, and I can now claim sanctuary from all those nosy interviewers and crazed admirers that insist on distracting me.

TG: but theres a million alternatives that don’t exist at the edge of known space and are less likely to kill you

TT: Its perfectly safe. Some have even described it as a paradise.

TG: yeah if you resist the constant urge to bath in its hypnotic psychedelic soup

TG: i call bullshit on your reasoning btw whats the real scoop

TT:…

TT: I feel drawn to it.

TG: aw no not this shit

TG: last time you said that i had to add lions and pool tables to my list of traumatic triggers

TT: Perhaps I simply want a break from all the gloom and doom I write about? Lolar has been described as beautiful and calming. Its visitors have praised the planet for its rejuvenating atmosphere.                                                                                           

TG: okay i can buy that

TT: Do my motives remain in question, Mr. Bond?

TG: always

TG: just let mom know why you’re leaving so shell stop pestering me at one in the morning 

TT: Certainly. I will gently reassure her that her constant scrutiny and intoxicated demeanor barely contributed to my impending mental breakdown.

TG: do it with thirty percent less sass or else ill freeze your bank accounts

TT: I already paid for the trip. And I doubt you have the authority cut off my funds if you’re doing fieldwork.  

TG: lalonde I told you critical information about my biz

TG: what do you think will happen if I accidentally email this conversation to the big guys upstairs                                           

TG: can you say house arrest

TT: You cad. 

TG: sh sh shhsshshshshshshshshhhhhhhhhhhhhh

TG: less sass

TT: Now its your turn. What strange business have our compatriots become caught up in to warrant observation by the Intelligence office?

TG: well the short version is

TG: someones trying to kill them

   

-Two Months Ago-

 

     A baby is crying. No, you don’t mind, its not like you were trying to formulate a new angle on the plot before the hubbub of disembarking could interrupt you. The family across the aisle comfort and cuddle the little abomination to no available. It won’t shut up.

     The shuttle shakes a little. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have entered Lolar’s atmosphere and will be touching down shortly.” The baby quiets under the captains smooth voice. Thank goodness, you don’t know how much longer you could withstand that assault.

     You flip through your journal a few more times. A scarce number of entries have been recent. This dry season of literary inspiration is growing tiresome. Hence the need for this vacation. You sigh, close the journal, and tuck it in the pack by your feet. _Later, old friend._ You check to make sure your apparel is in place; sunglasses, a scarf that covers your neck, and a sunhat that invades the personal space of the women next to you. In a few minutes, you will greet your temporary retreat, and maybe get some work done later.

 

-Fifteen minutes and three seconds later-

           

     You sit in a sea of familiar faces. A colonist stands in front of a wide screen TV, going over the slide show with the well oiled tone of a practiced performer Its very fascinating, but you already sat through this presentation twice before leaving. Yes, you know it occasionally rains hard enough to punch through skin. Yes, you know the multicolored sea is the result of several poisonous species constantly pumping it full of neurotoxin. Yes, you know an obscure religious sect founded Lolar’s colony and that freedom of belief is to be tolerated at al times. You came out here to be alone. Lolar’s resume discourages pursuit.

           

            God this is so very droll.

 

-Twenty minutes and three seconds later-

 

     It happens as your luggage is scanned. Knowing that it would be months before the next transport was scheduled to dock, you packed thoroughly. Three suitcases filled with clothes, pictures, a sewing kit, several journal’s filled with notes, and some books to keep your mind limber. Too thoroughly, as it turns out, because the time spent sending it all through the scanner allow the operator to recognize you. 

     You see it in his eyes. They widen, his lips part. You hold one finger to your lips and try to look desperate. He clams up, gives you a conspirator’s nod, and whisper’s _Rose Lalonde_. Damn. You owe Jade ten bucks. John’s disguise plan failed in the first hour. 

     If that man blabs you will sew his mouth to that of his most hated nemesis and throw him to the sharks. 

     You tie your things to a cart and make a beeline for the exit. You step past the sliding glass doors and are nearly blinded by all the white sand. Blinking, you set out along a purple stone path.

     Lolar’s first settlement feels ripped from a costal town. Every house has been handmade out of wood and rock. Although far inland, you can smell the sea. Salty, over a cloying scent. Once you get used to it, the excessive light isn’t so bad. It throws everything into sharp relief. Even tiny details are easily discerned. You smile. _Yes. This is good. This is different._ The ideas are already piling up. You won’t be wont for inspiration here. Lolar herself shall be your muse.

    Two children are playing on the path. They wield two sticks each and make their own sounds effects as they vigorously gesture at one another. They stop and make room as you approach, reigniting the conflict once you’re past. “I, Scribblemonger, curse you-“. Magicians, dual-wielding wands? Quaint. You thought of introducing the concept in your previous installment, but decided it was too silly and redundant. You might rethink that.

 

-One week later-

 

     You sit in the kitchen of your tiny rental home, one hand on a mug filled with tea, the other poised over your laptop’s keyboard. You’re not happy. You are not sad either, not even disappointed. Until today you have been overjoyed. You have made so much progress on Complacency of the Learned; Calmasis and the Crow Keepers in the past few days; you might have to start the next book before you return to Earth. Recently, however, the plot has taken some odd twists that don’t really fit with the rest of the story. Calmasis has fused with his familiar, and now the climax hinges on him undoing the transformation. It’s a wonderful dilemma, but it doesn’t seem like a good way to wrap up the story.

     And then there’s the rival! Ugh. You’ve been dancing around their morality for the entire series, but at this point you have to set down something solid. You wanted them to figure out the answer same time the reader does. Currently, that plan does not fit elegantly into the grand narrative. _I came here to fish for a new direction, not to conjure up more problems._

     Normally you’d expend this frustration by needling Dave, or messaging John, or bouncing ideas off of Jade. But they’re all light years away, too far way for a messaging program to contact. They’re probably all busy anyways.

     You close the laptop. Maybe a break is in order. You haven’t stepped outside to explore much since arriving. Time to change that.

 +++++

      _Hm. It’s more pristine than I expected._ The church stands in the middle of town. It is made of the same purple stone that seems to be everywhere. The entrance reminds you of a Greek temple with its triangular roof, and pillars framing the door. Elegant carvings of waves and foreign aquatic life adorn every flat surface. 

      _It’s rather extravagant for such a homely colony._ You knock, and when no one answers you let yourself in. 

     Beyond the door lies a small lobby, windowless and lit by tall candle stands in the far left corner. To the right there is a small altar for figurines and lighting incense. A grey haired man in purple and white stands in front of it, murmuring a prayer. _I shouldn’t disturb him._ You silently close the door behind you, and he looks up. 

     “Ah, Ms. Lalonde. How are you today?” 

     Your blood runs cold – for about half a second. “You saw the registry for the shuttle. I take it you’re a councilman in addition to a clergyman."

     “I am? What makes you say so?” 

     “Your clothes. Nearly everything in this town is either purple or white. You’re worshipping in such prominent colors even though service was over hours ago. It doesn’t take a perilous leap of logic to assume you hold some theocratic position.” 

     “Mhmm.” He nods, face blank. “And my position on the council?” 

     “This is a small community with a founding faith. I took a guess.” He laughs. 

     “Well! Since you know that much of me, it would be rude to not introduce myself formally.” He offers his hand. “Chidubem Sarr. Head bishop, and colony Violet councilman. I help make some of the rules around here."

     You shake his hand with a smile. “Rose Lalonde, author and tourist.” 

     “Not going to stay? I hope the wildlife around here hasn’t scared you off. There’s no danger unless you go swimming.”

     “So I’ve been told. No, I’m only here for the sights, and to get away from conventional civilization for a while.”

     “Running from the spotlight? Your books are quite good, but pardon me; nothing about them strikes me as worth striking up an obsession with its author. Unless, the attention you garnered was from book burners?”

     “There is such a faction, but they weren’t the problem.” You think back to the day the third installment was released. Fans and paparazzi practically swarmed your apartment building, cutting off exits with the practiced thoroughness of a SWAT team. Police broke the siege four hours later. “Personally, I think the obsession stems from the movie portrayal. Jules Manners brings a natural attractiveness to the role of Calmasis.”

     He turns back to the altar. “So what brings you here? Curiosity? The quiet?”

     “The former, but not so much the later. I’ve had enough silence for now.” You study the figurines. They all depict people grappling with some monster or object.  Some of them are less than stellar. “I’m familiar with your faith, but I never came across these in my studies.”

     “They were an art project our tenth grade teacher came up with. The students made models representing a struggle of some sort. Those that worship under Gl’tolyp asked to put them on display, so we did." 

     “Oh. So none of your guides are here then?” From your understanding, Gl’tolyp’s didn’t worship any higher beings. Instead, they asked for guidance and advice from a divine power. Descriptions of these advisors were sparse and unhelpful.

     “Heh, no. Those are in the sanctuary.” You walk over to the double door entrance. Pausing, you look to him for permission. He shakes his head. “Only the initiated are permitted inside. We value our privacy. I’m sure you can relate.”

     “More than you can believe.” Mildly disappointing, but understandable. “Is there anything you can show me? I’m curious about your faith.”

     “Do you wish to convert?” 

     “I'm not here to start a new way of life, Mr. Sarr."

     “Then I cannot satisfy your curiosity, Ms. Lalonde.” Chidubem pulls out his phone. “I have to pick up my daughter from daycare. I can’t leave you alone in here, but next time you visit, please come in from the office around the back. The seating arrangements are much nicer.”

     “Come back?” You raise an eyebrow. “You assume much.”

     “You left your solitude for a reason, did you not?” Chibudem pushes the exit open and holds it for you. “You should talk to somebody, Ms. Lalonde. It is unhealthy to keep to yourself at all hours. And if, perhaps, you let something slip about your new book? Well, that wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?”

     “It might be. Recently I’ve entertained the idea of killing Calmasis off.” Chidubem’s face falls, aghast. You walk past him. “I did have another question.”

     “Oh!” He shuts his jaw. “Well, ask away, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

     “I’ve noticed that your congregation sometimes comes in for a nightly session. Are these any different than the ones during the day? And please, be as vague as you feel comfortable in answering.”

     Chidubem considers your question, lips held tightly to prevent a smile. “Hrmmm, I suppose I can accommodate you. No vagueness needed, really, they’re just meetings we hold anytime something important needs to be discussed.”

     “I see. Do they ever relate to something your guides whisper to you?”

     “A plausible explanation.”

     “Ah, how perfectly inscrutable.” You are feeling a bit better now. “I’m glad I came Mr. Sarr. It was pleasant talking with you.” He waves you out. 

+++++

     Later, at your house, you sit in the same position has before, sans tea. _That was interesting. It felt rather nice to talk with someone. Why hasn’t this problem come up before?_ You tap the keyboard gently. Slowly, your eyes fall to the unopened pesterchum program in the dock. _I guess I never really wrote without accompaniment._

_+++++_

That night, there is another meeting. You hear people talking and walking past your house. You put it out of your mind and pull the covers overhead.

+++++

      You spend most of tomorrow introducing yourself to your neighbors. They are all very nice, if a bit mundane. Talking with is hardly as exciting as planning a new chapter, but there’s a calming, anesthesia like effect to the activity.

+++++                     

           

-Present day-

 

     The single-minded frenzy of the first week never returned, but you made expedient progress all the same. You added a little bit, day by day, and now you have completed your first draft of The Crow Keepers. You sit on your front porch, simply basking in the afterglow. For once, Lolar’s eternal sunlight has been blocked by cloud cover. You welcome the reprieve. Perhaps you will experience its notorious rainstorms after all. 

     You notice Kary, your neighbor from across the street, coming down the stone path. _Service let out early today._ You wave, feeling up to a conversation at the moment. She returns it weakly. Her face has a sickly pallor to it. “Kary, is something wrong?” Kary winces. She gestures – is that a stick in her hand? 

     Something coils around your neck and squeezes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice knowing you Rose. 'sniff' They die so young.
> 
> Rose Dave pester logs are fun to write. But GOD do they take time to format.


	8. Captain's Plight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Ampora of the Blessed gets a few things straightened out, including himself. No, not in that way you sick fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been the sexiest thing I have ever written. Take that as you will.

     You are Eridan Ampora, and all you ever wanted was to be feared. When you were still on Alternia you owned the seas as Orphaner Dualscar. You took the title from a book buried under rubble in some old subjuggulator coven, and spread its infamy across the FLARP circles. Land and sea dwellers alike feared you.

 

     Then the incident happened.

 

     At first, you managed to keep it secret all discreet like, just between SHE WHO MUST NEVER BE NAMED and yourself, but over the perigrees everyone and their bloody lusus connected the dots. You never heard the end of it after that. “Oh, how stupid do you have to be Eridan, to go after your morail’s lusus just because she broke up with you”. What a bunch of white knighting cretins, unworthy to so much as swab your deck. Of course it was a terrible idea, you realized that after half the ocean had been painted with your violet blood.

 

     You lost a lot of friends for that little stunt. They’d barely give you the time of day before ending the conversation, so after a while you dropped all contact and shored up in your hive. You kinda thought that they’d come crying back if you dropped off the grid out of concern for your wellbeing. They didn’t. Well, okay, two of them and HER tried to check in every other perigree, but everyone else took it the wrong way and left you alone. Couldn’t they hear an honest cry for support past the sullen silence? Cod, no wonder you always hated the landdwellers. They never had your back when you really needed them.

 

     And, on top of that humiliation, who dragged you out of that little hell? It was HER, of course! She blabbed about the whole thing to some higher ups in the Empire. You were so pissed! Out of the cooking circle, into the flames you went.

 

     In all fairness, it would be suicide for her to keep mum when Her Imperious Condescension makes a personal inquiry.

 

     Normally that’d have been the end of you right there, culled by the Empresses decree. To your surprise, she had you shipped to a facility on Alternia’s green moon. Apparently SHE remembered the incident a lot better than you did. Something about the stress of fighting an ungodly squid monster thousands of leagues under water awakened some unheralded power within you. And by unheralded power, you mean lasers. Strong, white lasers of unfathomable lethality. And then SHE did something to bring you back from the brink after Gl’bgolyb… you know what, lets not go into that.

 

     After a perigree of practice, you awakened your potential and officially became the second of the Blessed.

 

     Your emergence convinced the Condesce to observe the homeworld more closely in case other trolls with unique abilities would emerge. She hadn’t much luck, until you added some names to her candidacy pool. She had thought that the other blessed would all be highbloods like yourself. So did you, until one night.

 

     You were experiencing a heavenly massage by some rust blooded masseuse, thinking back to your old FLARPing days. Peanuts compared to your grand destiny! It In a burst of inspiration you put together some odd threads that those games had left hanging. Vriska Serket and Terezi Pyrope were quickly collected.

 

     From there it was smooth sailing. Eight more Blessed came to the green moon.  Then Sol pulled his little stunt, and you were eleven. Eleven, all trolls you had grown up talking to. A weird coincidence, but destiny works in mysterious ways.

 

     Your life had not truly begun until that moment. The Blessed were fully absorbed into the aAternian war machine. All of you were heroes, champions of the battlefield, paragons of viciousness and brutality! You were loved by the people, and feared by your enemies. None of your old aspirations came close to this rapid acquisition of power and prestige!

 

     You adopted a scouting ship as your vessel to be always at the front lines, then modified it with the best equipment and helmsman available. After some political maneuvering, you have two other Blessed currently on staff. You imagine the _Paninator_ as a bit like yourself; fast, deadly, the best in its class, and always in the lead.

 

     Except when your top class Blessed helmsman goes haywire and blows a hole in your ship’s broadside.

 

     So, here you are, sitting in your beloved vessel’s control room, viewport dimmed to block the hellish sunlight outside, listening to your crew rattle off reports and diagnostics about this and that. You aren’t paying them much mind; you have your beloved ship to think about! Oh, _Painy_. Battered and beached like a whale. The sheer tragedy makes you want to cry.

 

 _No time for tears,_ you tell yourself. _Suck it up Ampora, you have a bigger fish to fry._ Concealing the quietest of sniffles, you spin your chair. Vriska Serket stands before you, the helmsman attendees huddling behind her. As they should be. They’ll be lucky to only get culled after this.

 

     “So, once again, because apparently you didn’t hear me the first time.” she growls, “Sollux is pandead, his kidnapper is running free out on cotton candy barf world, and you’re wasting my time when we should be hunting him down!” She punctuates her tirade with a practiced hair flip.

 

     Ah, Vris. She never has been one to bow to authority. You remember back to your FLARPing days, when Orphaner Dualscar and Marquise Mindfang terrorized the alternian sea- “Are you drifting off again? Because I swear, if I have to go over all that for you once more-“

 

     “Vvris, I am quietly contemplatin this matter with the full gravvity it deservves, as great leaders are wwont to do. So don’t shout at me, it’s unseemly for someone of your advvanced status. Set an example for these dregs so they don’t screww up next time.” Some of the technicians relax. They think they’re getting off easy just from that? Poor, naïve fools.

 

     “If you’ve really been listening, then would you be so kind as to dismiss me so I can get on with my fucking day?”

 

     “Are you two seriously still tied up in SOP?” Terezi enters the bridge, followed closely by Karkat. “I thought we’d have left by now.” 

 

     Karkat added his own two ceagers. “Oh, hello assholes. What’s this, still talking about shit that doesn’t matter and wasting precious seconds we could be spending getting Sollux back? No way, I’d have never fucking believe it.” They walk past the techies. Karkat shoots a glare their way. “I got a message saying that Vriska fainted, so that made me slightly happier about sharing my existence with you people.” Vriska gives you a hateful look. Perfect. You can always count on Kar for the delivery. You can twist that knife for weeks now. “On the other hand, I’m surprised to find myself agreeing with Vriska when I say; why ISN’T SHE OUT LOOKING FOR THAT INSSUFFERABLE PRICK?” Never assume Karkat has reached his maximum volume, he will always surpass your expectations. How Terezi can bear to stand near him with that impudent grin is beyond your ken.

 

     “Well, I waaaaaaaas making preperations to start tracking them down. Eridan called me to go over the whole episode in excruciating detail, all over again. Apparently it all went in one ear and out the other the first time.”

 

     “What the fuck?” Karkat looks at you with disbelief. “Its not a goddamn puzzle. Sollux, alien, mindjack, copious amounts of asskicking done by yours truly, bam. Done. No further explanation needed.” He folds his arms and stares down his nose at you. “This is the part where you thank me for clearing that up. Don’t rush it, I can wait.”

 

     You’ve had enough insubordination. “Be quiet!” You stand, cape flaring out dramatically. “There is a perfectly good reason I needed Vvris here.”

 

     “Of course you do.” Terezi speaks before the other two can. “But until you fill us in, there’s not much we can do but flail in the dark. The situation is pressing, Eridan, and we need a goal to keep us oriented. If you are about to provide one, then please continue.” Her tone is supportive, but that smile is predatory.

 

     You glance suspiciously from side to side. Your staff carry on with their tasks, entirely absorbed in evaluating the _Paninator’s_ status. You don’t want to give them something else to worry about; ignorance is the one mercy the lowblood deserves. “All of you, meet me in the helmsblock.” you whisper. Karkat rolls his eyes as you stride past, but follows with the rest of them.

 

     The helmsblock is completely wrecked. Aside from the gaping whole, which you had covered with cannibalized tarps, nearly every console and monitor has been completely fried. The walls are burned and scoured. There are a few bloodstains here and there; not everyone survived Sol’s freak out. In the center of the devestation  is Sol’s body, supported by massive amounts of tubes and a wire installed in his limbs. Above him are several exposed beehive mainframes, most of which are completely fried to charred crisps. Mind honey drips from above.

 

     You turn around quickly to make sure your cape flutters appropriately. You’ve practiced the movement dozens of times. Highblood body movement is practically a language unto itself with all the nuance packed into every little motion. No one present is suitably cultured to appreciate the gesture, but it felt good to get it off your chest.

 

     “As you are all wwell awware, our helmsman is presently unavvailable for reasons blatantyl apparent to anyone with a thinkpan. No thanks to our incompetent staff wwho wwere apparently snoozing during their schoolfeeding like the base knavves they are.” You sniff disparagingly.

 

     A brownblooded techie with coiled horns steps forward. “H-highblood, there was no warning. We tried-“

 

     You exhale a tendril of white smoke, darkening the room for an instant. The techie shuts his trap.

 

     “Anywways, wwhile Vvris was gettting ready to start searchin for the scallywwag that beached us,” Terezi snickers and whispers something to Karkat, who almost smiles. It is painful to let is go after that demonstration, but you’re not about to (risk her killing you) attack another Blessed. You let it go. “I had the engineers see if they could coax any powwer out of Sol’s body. Didn’t wwork, but-“

 

     “Why not?” Vriska interrupts. You fight down a snarl. Why can’t these chums ever settle down for a good old exposition? You’re just trying to keep them in the loop!

 

     “Vvris I was talkin-“

 

     “We have Sollux’s super brain, even if he’s not in it.  Why can’t we use it?” Oh come on!

             

     “Look at that, Vriska’s trying to be a helpful member of the team. Shame your idea’s about as dead and ineffective as your conscience.” says Karkat.

 

     “Brain activity is need to generate psionic energy, bare minimum.” Terezi added. “Without the mind, the body is useless! A mind manipulator like you ought to be able to appreciate that.” The engineers nod in agreement, although they seem unsatisfied with her explanation.

 

     “Exactly!” You burst out, trying to get this conversation back on track. “If helmsmen could function pandead, the empire wwould havve started corin their gray matter a millennia ago.”

 

     “Brain activity, you say?” A diabolical smile stretches across Vriska’s face. She raises one hand to her temple. You recognize the stance; its how she usually looks before subjugating her victim’s will under her own. Frankly, it’s incredible a blue blood could have such potent psychic talent. It might be considered a symbol of the highblood’s right to rule, even if Vris wasn’t a member of the high aristocracy. How deliciously infuriating. Fuck, no wonder you can’t just get over her already.

 

     You cross your arms. “Come off it, Vvris. Its not going to work.” She doesn’t answer.

 

     “What’s not? Is she trying to control a corpse?” Karkat turns to Terezi. “That can’t happen, right? Vriska can’t have mind control powers, pan boggling luck and the power to puppeteer the dead. That’d be like, unfair to the rest of us unpowered trolls, an upset to the cosmic balancing act that would require the immediate remedy of species wide extinction just to get everything back to normal. Because even total annihilation would please me more than Vriska fucking Serket raising the dead.”

 

     Terezi shakes her head, but looks thoughtful. “There needs to be a mind to control in the first place. Question! Is the defendant dead or alive?”

 

     You address the engineers. ”Tell her wwhat you told me.”

 

     They turn to their superior, Terrengineer Kildar, a male with blood somewhere between green and the rare jade. He adjusts his spectacles, a nervous tick you appreciate. It takes all the guessing out of how much anxiety you’ve afflicted. “Technically speaking, Sollux – ah, the helmsman – has merely vacated his body, in a similar manner to the rare mental projection ability those with rust blood may possess. Or Translation, as is the case here. Hm. His higher consciousness, and possibly parts of his subconscious, we aren’t properly equipped to tell, as fascinating as the question is-“ Terezi begins tapping her cane, and Karkat’s eyes start twitching.

 

     Sidetracks among sidetracks, as usual. “Get to the point Kildar.”

 

     “S-sorry my lord. My apologies. Er, for all intents and purpose the body you see before you is comatose, not deceased. Rather than sleeping, there simply are not enough of the helmsman’s mental faculties left to support thought or psychic power. Think of it as if a large portion of critical software was removed. Even if you tried downloading something else into it, as Assualt Leader Serket is, you would simply-“ Vriska screams in frustration. She kicks the platform, creating a large dent. “-Be unable to get the helmsman to function.” Kildar finishes weakly, stepping back. His subordinates follow suit.

 

     Well that was even more tedious and boring than the first time he said it. “Cute idea Vvris. If you bothered to listen, you’d havve knowwn how pointless it wwas.”

 

     “All I want-“ she kicks the platform again. Sol’s body shakes from the force. “is to get-“ *kick* “off” *kick*”this” *kick*”fucking” *kick*”planet! Ugh!” *squelch*. Vriska’s boot breaks past the platform’s metal covering and into the literal meat of the apparatus. Cursing, she pulls it out, covered in yellow slime. “Fuuuuuuuuck! Fuck fucking fuck!”

 

     Karkat starts clapping, lips tightly neutral. “Wow. Fantastic. Astonishing. Now our helmsman rig is probably broken. As if things couldn’t get any worse. No, really, after all this I’m expecting it now. If some unfathomable terror of the deep doesn’t peek its fucking head out to see if our pathetic selves are worth feasting on, I’m going to be incredibly disappointed.”

 

     “Shut up!” Vriska yells, shaking off the slime. Her face begins steadily turning blue.

 

     “Aren’t you supposed to be the lucky one? That platform should have been filled with magical subjugulator miracle powder, or a lifetime supply of grubloaf.” Vriska turns to him slowly, one hand on her temple. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try controlling him again. We all saw that utterly fail- ow fuck!” Karkat’s hand began punching its master in the face.

 

     “Sorry Karkat, just making sure I was gripping the pan properly!” she give a nasty grin. “Looks like I used the right technique after all.”

 

     Terezi reaches out and grabs the flailing appendage, easily halting its rampage. Karkat wheezes, covering an undoubtedly bruised eye. “I seem to recall a reason for why we came here today, as utterly flabbergasting an concept that must be. Eridan, if you wouldn’t mind wrapping up this miserable display? It smells awful in here.”

 

     “You don’t need to remind me.” You answer with a huff. With another flourish of the cape that nobody else understands (translation: thanks for reminding me also do you want to grab some gubloaf for lunch?), you stroll to one of the few intact consoles. “Givve me a minute, this thing takes forevver noww that the mainframe is smashed to pieces.”

 

     Karkat seems surprised. “I thought you were winding up to a speech back there.”

 

     “Yeah, wwell, you guys took the wwind of my sails, so you get the short vversion.”

 

     “Oh thank god. I was worried how many guided inquiries and dramatic pauses I’d have to suffer through this time.” Vriska starts laughing.

 

     There, it’s open. You play the sound file, and unintelligible screaming fills the block. Karkat and Vriska jump. The engineers flinch. Terezi does nothing. Finally the screaming peters out into frantic muttering.

 

     “What the fuck is that?” Karkat panics, sickle in one hand. He’s still covering the injured eye. Vriska looks around, alert.

 

     Terezi clicks her lounge several times, slowly shaking her head from side to side.. “Its just one unanticipated factor after another. If only the results weren’t always so terrible, today would have been great fun otherwise.

 

     “Big surprise, the prophet already knows the score and speaks in nothing but ominous crypticisms.” Vriska says, still scanning for threats. In spite of her made up vocabulary you're inclined to agree, although you also know the score.

 

     Kartkat walks over to you and peers at the screen. “A recording? You must have been creaming yourself, scaring the shit out of us for no goddamn reason. Did the crash fracture your common sense?”

 

     He’s still covering that eye? “Kar do you need that looked at? You could ask the mediterrorizer-“

 

      “I’m fucking peachy.” He waves you off. You shrug. His problem. “I’ll give you the benefit of my doubt, Eridan. How many sweeps did you shave off your miserable excuse for a lifespan making those ungodly screams? I’m thinking at least twelve. I’ll take off a few myself if I don’t like they why behind the how.”

 

      “I didn’t. Our guest did.”

 

      “Guest?” Vriska’s gaze slowly travels upward to one of the few intact beehive mainframes. She stares, searching. Her eyes go wide. “There’s something in there.”

 

      You smirk. “We didn’t find anything in Sollux’s body, but the engineer’s stumbled across this in the system. That red swill alien left some psychic fragment of himself behind in the Translation system.”

 

      Karkat holsters his sickle. “I can’t even be shocked anymore. That officially capped off my bullshit meter from now to the heat death of our universe, until whatever comes after that looks around and realizes the inherent futility of the sentient right to actually give a shit.  We have an alien in the computer network now? Am I going to find vaguely trolloid monstrosities in the vents next?”

 

      “Not the whole alien.” Terezi corrects him. “Only a part of his higher or lower consciousness, am I right?”

 

      One of the engineers nods. “It is more likely that it is an imprint of some sort, copied or split from the whole when the Translation connection broke. A geist, similar to the spectral facsimiles that linger on for a time after the death of a troll of uncommon psychic talent.”

 

      Terezi considers that. “Makes about as much sense as everything else in the past several hours.”

 

      “I wwas thinkin that Vvris could take control of it. Kildar thinks it can act as a substitute for Sol’s mind since its already been in his neural system, sort of. Does that sound like a good idea to you?” You ask Terezi. “Got any scoop on the future you can share?”

 

      “It feels worth trying.” She says slowly. “I can’t make any promises. I’m not even sure it controlling the fragment will be possible. Spectral spirit or not, ”

 

      “Remember who’s on the case here.” Vriska has yet to look down from the ceiling. Instead she walks eyes upward, a feral purrbeast stalking its prey. “He’s slippery, but I’ll catch this little fly in time.”

 

      “Wwell, keep tryin, you’re the only chance wwe’vve got until our hardwware is fixed.” Vriska nods absently.

 

      “That’s fucking perfect.” Karkat exhales. “We’ve traded an undead uprising for banking on Vriska’s Serkets leet mind haxxing skillz. More goddamn wastes of time.”

 

      “Well!” Terezi interjects, swinging her cane. “As illuminating as this was, Karkat has a point. We have a sassy alien boy to catch!”

 

      “We still don’t know-“

 

      “Shut up, Karkat. He said it himself, Karkat. He’s a guy, your argumentative stance on the subject is pointless, KARKAT.”

 

     Karkat’s mouth scrunches up. He holds up one shaking fist to Terezi as he stalks to the exit. “I’m taking one quick look at this bruise, and then we are leaving. No more fucking distractions or Standard Operating Puttering Around Being a Useless Collection of Fossilized Turds. I will goddamn swim around this planet, alone and down to my sickle, and singlehandedly slaughter every nautical freak of nature in my way if I have to. And if anyone tries to stop me-“ his voice gradually fades as he walks away.

 

     You shake your head. Kar can be a handful. You like the guy, but you’re your glad he’s Terezi’s responsibility when off duty and not yours. “Kildar, you chums can assist Vvris if she needs help. Otherwwise, stay here and try to not to disgrace yourselvves further. Pyrope and I need to discuss how to handle the escapee.” With one hand, you motion Terezi to accompany you. Unexpectedly, she links her arm with yours. For a half second your face feels rather warm (did she understand the gesture after all?), but the grip is tight and not at all welcoming. She practically drags you out of the block.

 

     “Yes, tactics!” Terezi walks at a brisk pace that gives you no leverage to pull away. Anytime you try she accelerates. Several unfortunate lowbloods cross paths with you two and nearly get trampled. “Any ideas to start out with? Don’t be shy, throw them out there and see what sticks!”

 

     “Hey, Ter, could you ease up-“

 

     “Tracking him will be easy of course, it is capturing sunglasses that will be tough. We’ll need drones...” She stops at an intersection of corridors. “Do you want to hold this conversation at the bridge or the war block?”

 

     Still don’t want to draw the attention of the noncombatant personnel away from repairs, as much as any troll can be considered a noncombatant. “The wwar block, wwhere el-“

 

     “Excellent, I was thinking the same thing!” Terezi sets off again, hauling you down the right corridor. She lets you go once you’ve reached a purple door that she holds open for you, suddenly the gracious attendant. Straightening your attire, you walk into the block, making sure to give her your most disparaging of glances.

 

     Violet screens illuminate the dark war block. Streams of data scroll down them, no doubt fed by your bridge crew upstairs. In the center of the room is a holo glowmaggot table surrounded by chairs, the eponymous larvae contained under a slab of glass. You make your way around it to the biggest chair, a veritable throne complete with silent swivel action. Now seated, you activate the table. The maggots move into position, guided by electric pulses under their grubby feet, and one in place they project the desired image. A three dimensional model of the _Paninator_ appears, complete with the recent damages and several tooltips displaying the summation of its status.

 

     You ease into the chair, surveying the state of your vessel. She's intact, downed but not out. The auxiliary power siphoned from Sol in case of emergencies will last you a few nights, so at least the ship will retain functionality in case of danger. That said there is no way in hell the _Paninator_ is getting off the ground until the massive hole is repaired. And you can’t use the auxiliaries all willy nilly, or you won’t have enough psionic fuel to get home, even if the reinforcements bring spare power cells. You can’t maneuver her, and she’ll only be able to afford a few salvos. Damn. You’ve done what you could with the mods, but most of the really good stuff is mounted at the front. You’ll be in constant danger of having your base assaulted from the rear…

 

     This is how it should be. You, taking stock of your assets, and striking accordingly, devastating the defending forces in time for the final fell swoop. But this time, circumstances have left you on the defensive. You hate the defensive, it’s not in your blood to react on another's terms. You are a seadweller, the tides of battle will be yours to control by hatchright. Any other captain would be sweating in their boots, sitting in your seat.

 

     You tap into the wellspring within you. It doesn’t manifest, no white smoke like last time, but you feel powerful. You KNOW you are powerful. That is the difference that sets you apart in life’s high lane. You are destined. You are a Blessed, the Alternian Empire’s foremost weapon of destruction.

 

     You decaptchalouge Ahab’s Crosshairs, run your hands over its smooth side. Once, this laser rifle was possibly the single strongest weapon of its size, and even it is now dwarfed by the strength that was locked inside of you all along. Yes, you are confident that no matter what dangers this planet of redundant suns poses, you alone will make up the deficiencies of resources. _Besides, I might get a neww helmsman sooner than I expected. Though really, the sooner wwe get Sol back the faster things will return to the status quo, and wwe can wwipe out these pathetic aliens as per usual._

     You recaptchalouge the Crosshairs and look up. You neglected turning on the lights in order to get Pyrope to do it, as a subtle way to reaffirm your authority. Yet aside from the violet hues of the computer screens, the block remains dark. Terezi leans on the wall next to the closed door. Her dragon can has been holstered to her side, and you relax. Then you notice a second cane, propped up beside her. Planted in advance. Your eyes widen. _Oh shit._

 

     Before you can move, Terezi grabs the second staff. In a blur she separates it into two halves connected by a black chain. She stabs the lower half into the ground before whipping the other towards you. A blade pops out of the shaft to form a sickle. The chain swings around you, trapping you in your seat. Terezi leaps forward, grapping the sickle head and sticks the blade into the ground at just the right distance to tighten the binding. You force yourself to relax. Yeah, you could break the chain, but that would force a fight. And with the initiative gone, it’s not worth risking a strife against her.

 

     “Hey, Pyrope, wwhat constitutes the grounds for the court execution of a suicidal legislacerator who assaults her superior officer when he could vvaporize them in a the span of one blood push?”

 

     “Don’t be an idiot, Eridan.” Terezi places herself in front of you, leaning against the holo table. Its light illuminates her from behind, shadowing her features. “You wouldn’t risk damaging the all important war block over a friendly discussion between close pals.”

                                                                                            

     “Friendly discussion my left fin this is an interrogation not to mention blatant assault upon my royal personage.” You spit.

 

     Terezi sticks out he flower lip, looking hurt. “I’m only trying to make sure you’re comfortable for our lengthy discussion. The chain provides a sense of security for the both of us. You now know that I do not intend on murdering you, not yet anyways, and I don’t have to fret about accidentally breaking your skull and eviscerating your entrails in self defense.”

 

     “Like I would even bother dancin with you in the art of close quarter combat. You wouldn’t be worth the honor of a proper duel.” You briefly let your holy power steam around you. Though heatless, the chains begin to sizzle under its glow. “I’d take you out in one shot.”

 

     She doesn’t even flinch. Does your threat really mean so little? “Again. War block. Easily destroyed by vast quantities of destructive energy. What if you miss? And even if you hit me, there’s no one better to hunt down Sollux for you.”

 

     “Wwe don’t even need him anymore!”

 

     “Yeah, maybe. But I bet you still want him.” She gives a cheeky grin and starts wiggling her eyebrows. You gag.

 

     “Cod, no! Wwhy does everyone think that? Just because I think he’s a disgusting piece of trash that doesn’t deservve half of the talent or respect he gets, wwho talks in the most rude, base, grating style of speech knowwn to troll kind doesn’t mean that-“ you stop yourself. Her eyebrows are wiggling even faster. “Okay, so maybe I do hate him a little. He’s still not wworth my spades, I just wwant him to. You knoww. Suffer a bit, and maybe finally acknowwledge wwho’s the better troll in the end.”

 

     “Sure, sure. Break him first, buy him later. I get it, even if your method of courtship makes me want to vomit.” Terezi mimics retching, hands at her throat. You roll your eyes. “But enough about Sollux, lets talk about Sollux!” She suddenly leans in way, way too close. How can mere teal blood have such sharp teeth? “You’ve deflected all of my previous forays for information on the subject before, subtle or not, but given the predicament the Translation technology has put us in your lips must be feeling a bit looser. Who sold it to you?”

 

     Your lips form a hard line. Not this fucking shit. You wait for her to continue, but Terezi says nothing. Her unseeing gaze meets yours. Seconds drag on. Silence.

 

     What is she waiting for?

 

     You realize why she hasn’t done anything. Legislacerators might get special privileges when it comes to their investigations, but as a seadweller you are beyond even them. Consider your relative importance to the Empire, and the answer is clear; Pyrope can’t touch you, so she’s resorted to intimidation. You allow yourself a smirk. Oh, what a wonderful feeling, to be out of even the crafty Terezi Pyrope’s grasp. _Wwell done Pyrope, you reely got the drop on me. But it was all for knot oh for fucks sakes I'vve begun punning again. Don't do that, that's HER thing._ Resting easily into the comfort of your chair, you resolve to simply wait her out. Karkat or someone will come in and get you out of this without it devolving into a deathmatch.

           

     Terezi places the tip of her finger on your forehead. Slowly, she starts dragging it down the middle of your face, down your nose and lips to the edge of the chin, hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

 

    “W-wwhat the glubbing fuck?” Terezi says nothing. After a moment, she starts the process again, drawing another vertical line next to the first. The movement is calm, thoughtless, and mechanical. You pose of comfort has given you no room to retreat. “I’m fucking serious Ter, wwhat do you think you’re doing? Say something!” You resummon your power. “Say something or I’ll fucking end you!”

 

     “You won’t.” Terezi responds calmly. Her voice is cold, all the maniacal glee and restrained laughter gone. She doesn't seem to mind that her hand is being slowly burned by your light. “I wasn’t kidding about how important the war block is now. Sollux fried the mainframe. This is our last database. Destroy it, and all our specs, status reports, journal entries, inventory, classified information, custom settings, and one of a kind of files vanish.” Having completed the second scratch, Terezi sets about creating a third line. “We’d be running blind in enemy territory.”

 

     “Wwe’vve got the bridge for that.” You say. The light dims.

 

     “The bridge draws its information from this room. So do many of the specifications and automatic routines regarding helmsman management, Translation excluded. Totally irreplaceable. You know this, so don't try faking me out.” She clicks her tongue. “Too shallow. I can barely smell the blood.” When Terezi begins the fourth scratch, the pain becomes more acute. “You could try killing me without damaging the block, but I’d rest easy knowing you’d be doomed anyways.”

 

     “Wwhat are you talkin about?” you ask, transfixed by her voice. The emotionless surety in it is mesmerizing, despite the pain. Your light has been completely snuffed out.

 

     “One Blessed gone already, captured to be exploited by the enemy. And then you kill another one? The shame would be too great. The Empire would need a scapegoat.” _Sssssscrape_. You wince as the pressure increases. “Popularity is a fickle thing. All it takes is one monumental screw up, and the world turns against you. But you already know how that works, right Eridan?” You gulp. You do, you know that fact very well. “Hm. Crooked.” Terezi pauses midway through the fifth cut. Studying her work, she licks blood off her fingers, a movement as sensual as it is coddamn disgusting.

 

     “Okay!” You exclaim. “Okay. You wwanna fucking knoww wwhere I got the Translation technology? I’ll tell you! Supplier confidentiality isn’t wworth this creepy shit! Just stop before you leavve a scar.”

 

    Terezi withdraws. She removes a vial of gel from her belt and begins attending to her scalded hand. “Good choice Mr. Ampora. You won’t regret it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Kildar, our exposition fairy for this chapter. He's channeling a bit of Jeff Goldblum in his speech above.
> 
> Fun fact: this was originally intended to be chapter 7. However, I had several reservations about it and ultimately it fit the timeline better as chapter 8.
> 
> Don't worry, I didn't truncate the interrogation to skip to another perspective and leave the rest of it up to speculation. Till next time.
> 
> Like, comment, subscribe, WORSHIP ME. I mean, leave something constructive. Consider it my invitation to take part in cybernetic immortality via digital engraving. Its okay if you don't believe in that stuff, we know where you live and have already sent a choir of our best laughassasins to help change your mind.


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